


Cheer-Stained: One Week In Westbridge

by JessicaX



Series: Cheerless Saga [3]
Category: Sabrina the Teenage Witch (TV)
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Band Fic, Christmas, Community: femmeslash, Concerts, Drama & Romance, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Gen, Near Death Experiences, POV Bisexual Character, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Teen Angst, Unrequited Crush, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 25,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaX/pseuds/JessicaX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[CHEERLESS SAGA, Book 3/6] Libby blows back into town, and it doesn't take her long to run into her best blonde bud. But Sabrina's life has marched forward just like Libby's - can they still relate to each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Get Freak To Where You Once Belonged

"Libby?"

The loudest sound you can ever hear is your own blood, pumping behind your ears when your adrenaline is at its peak, when nausea and dizziness are assaulting the rest of your system. Why? It blocks out all other sensory input, and if you let it happen long enough, it's all you can think about - that gallon plus of fluid in constant motion, that never stops churning, careening through thousands of miles of veins and arteries...

"Libby, come on!"

I opened my eyes, and everything was shaking, because my whole body was shaking; my hands wouldn't stop. Desperately, I tried to take deeper breaths, but they just made me want to cry... and I couldn't do that now. No, I could cry later if I still wanted to, but now was the time to be strong, to take this daunting task and tell it-

"Dammit, Libbs-"

 _"Shut the hell up!"_ I screamed through the door. "Keep your pants on, I'll be out in a minute."

Just one glance in the mirror before I left my sanctuary; did I smear my make-up? No... good. My hair was hideous, but that was the idea, right? Yes, my hair had to be as revolting and off-putting as it could be, just like all the leather, because that was "cool". It was what they wanted.

One more shaky breath...

"Finally!" Adymm said, a sigh of relief passing through his sparkling blue lips as I stepped out into the light. A warm, strong hand snaked around me, squeezing my shoulder. "You okay?"

"Fine," I hissed, closing the bathroom door. "Just... just another panic attack, I guess."

"But you've done this before," he whispered as we headed around the corner. "You're always great."

"Yeah, but this is... different."

He nodded. "I guess it kinda is, but you'll still be great. Let's knock 'em dead."

And then there was no more time to think.

"Are you ready to rock, Westbridge?!"

The packed coffee house erupted; I didn't think this small a venue could be so full. "We're In Absinthia," I went on, grasping the microphone as I brushed a strand of (temporarily) purple hair out of my face, "and we hope you enjoy."

Without waiting for my knees to buckle, Milnot launched into the opening drum riff of "Call Waiting". I used my temporary respite between then and the start of the first verse to draw in as much oxygen as I could; I wasn't ready to do this, not here. But I knew I must, and onward through the set I went.

Two songs down. Three. The crowd was digging it; people weren't so wrapped up in our sound that they didn't get up for coffee refills, but they all cheered and clapped, and a couple guys in the back whistled every time I leaned forward (I knew I should've worn the turtleneck instead of the tank top). Hey, if it sells...

Finally, we had played through the eight song set we were billed to do, and to be honest, the sensation it brought me was most definitely "relief". "Thanks for the laughs, Westbridge - see you soon!"

As we headed for the coffee bar and the next band on the night's roster set up, Adymm rubbed my shoulders. "See, what were you worried about? You kicked some major ass!"

I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile. "Yeah, yeah... stop trying to butter me up for bedroom favours."

"That was our best gig yet," T.Q. sighed as he leaned against the counter. "They ate it up!"

"Lucky thing they didn't notice how you butchered 'Fascination Street'," Greg muttered tiredly, proceeding to take out a pack of Camels. "Or were you playing a different song, perhaps?"

"Oh, lay off, you old sack o' sh-"

"Um, sorry," a familiar voice said behind me, "but there's no smoking in here."

My head began turning in that eternal instant, and as I moved, I noticed and memorised everything around me: Greg's cigarette halfway to his lips, Adymm's pierced eyebrows raising quizzically, Milnot pushing dreadlocks out of his line of vision...

* * *

Okay, as I take forever to turn around (and to further reinforce that this felt like a really, REALLY long time), I think here's a good place to break the gravitas and introduce myself. Good afternoon! As you may have picked up on by now, my name is Libby - Libby Chessler. Here's some more things you may or may not know about me: I'm a freshman in college attending Columbia University, I work in a hole-in-the-wall spaghetti hut in the Chelsea neighbourhood of New York City, and I perform the lead vocals for a goth-rock band called In Absinthia. The last one is a relatively new development in my life; I haven't even sat in for a dozen gigs with them, and yet they already seem to have accepted me as a permanent fixture in the ensemble. Too bad it all still feels like an anchovy-induced hallucination to me.

By the way, I'm going out with that pierced guy, Adymm. That's also a pretty recent thing; we've been friends for just over a year, but at some point during this whole ordeal we ended up kissing, and from there nature took its course. We're not quite used to the coupley thing yet, but we're getting there.

Unfortuantely (for me), none of that's as exciting as what's going to happen next... because a LOT is going to happen. Maybe not right away, but soon, trust me - and some of it is outrageous enough to make Manson's toes curl, and I mean Marilyn, Shirley OR Charlie. Never say I don't try to warn you people - it's not MY fault you're gluttons for punishment! If you want safe, happy endings, try "The Boxcar Children" or something.

We now return you to your regularly-scheduled head movement.

* * *

"Pardon?" Greg asked in that deadpan tone of his.

Finally, I was facing the counter, but before my eyes could focus and communicate what was happening to my brain, the voice continued, "If you could just take it outside, I'd really appreciate it. I know, I sound like a wet blanket, but thing is, my boss is my aunt, and she's kinda paying for my education, so if I let something like that slip by she'll be all over me like ugly on an ape, if ya know what I'm saying." Then her sparkling blue eyes focused on me, and one delicate hand brushed a few wisps of blonde hair behind her ear. "Sorry... what can I get you?"

My voice stuck. I couldn't see straight. It's probably totally messed up that I reacted this way, but if you only knew...

"Helooo?" Her hand waved in front of my face, one eyebrow raising slightly. "Earth to... whatever planet you guys are from?"

"Planet New York," Adymm laughed, reaching out to grab the waving hand and shake it. "Adymm Koriander. Your aunt must be named 'Hilda', right?"

"Yeah," she said with a grimace, glancing down at her "Hilda's Coffee House" apron. "But I'll deny it publicly."

All the guys cracked up; all I could manage was a weak smile. Why didn't anybody tell ME we'd been hired by Aunt Hilda? There was an extremely short list of Aunt Hildas in Westbridge...

"Just call me T.Q.," he interjected, hastily grooming his shaggy hair to make himself seem less like a bum.

"T.Q.," she replied thoughtfully. "Is it contagious?"

"I'm Milnot, nice to meet ya - and don't pay no attention to that bonehead, he's nothin' but a two-bit hood with a bass."

"Greg Davies," our synth player introduced himself as he stuffed the Camel back in its pack, ever the concise Brit. "Pleasure."

"Likewise," she said with a nod. "Y'know, you guys were really good - I wish I had today off so I could just enjoy the experience, but the lattes don't pour themselves!" Her attention wandered back over to me. "Hey, are you okay? You look kinda pale."

A well-placed swallow finally unstuck my voice, but at the same time, much to my horror, Adymm grabbed me by the shoulders and said, "Yeah, this is the haunting siren that pushes us to 110 - they call her Cheerless Chessler."

"Or you do, leastways," Greg muttered.

"Y'know, that's funny," our cashier mused. "I used to know a girl named Libby Chessler... haven't seen her in like, forever, though. Hey, you guys aren't related or anything, are you?"

Silence. Everyone crowded around that coffee counter stopped dead, including her; after a few seconds, she leaned forward, eyes squinting to see past all the make-up.

"Oh my God," she breathed. "Libby?"

I couldn't take it anymore. Before anything else could happen, before the cruel world and my amazingly bad luck could ruin my chances one more time, I lunged over the counter and threw my arms around her, squeezing her so tight I'm sure it bruised.

"Damn... I missed you, Sabrina!"

_END Chapter One_


	2. What's A Nice Girl Like Ew...

" _Libby!_ " Sabrina squealed, pushing me back at arm's length to look at me. "Holy crap, what are you doing here?! Well, I guess I know why you're here, but... gosh, I can't believe it!"

Then she laughed... and I felt my heart burst wide open. So much time had passed; I'd been missing this girl for a year and a half, never quite being in the same place at the same time, and for her to turn up right in front of me asking me about mochas almost sent me into a seisure.

While I was reflecting, she had run around the counter and led me off a ways; I almost yelped in surprise when I realised I was being sat down on a couch. "You gotta tell me everything, and don't tell me there's nothing to tell 'cause... well, the purple hair and fishnets make me a teensy bit curious!"

I laughed nervously; I was shaking again, and rubbing my arm raw. Why was I so panicky lately? "W-well, yeah, it goes with the territory; you don't wear socks with flip-flops, and you don't wear pastels when singing in a goth band, right?"

"Guess not," she giggled, leaning back and crossing her legs. "Wow, so... look at you, leading the In Absinthia to stardom! How'd all that come together?"

"Oh, it's a long, strange story..." But before I could get to it, the rest of the band plopped down in various seats around us, Adymm on my other side. It might sound bad, but I kinda resented them for that - I wanted some one-on-one time first! "Uh, and it can wait until the movie comes out. What about you? A java-gopher, huh?"

"Oh, yeah, but this is just for spending money. I actually started here before Aunt Hilda bought it; I think she was peeved that her clock shop was such a flop, so she switched property and wares in one fell swoop."

"Wait, hold on a minute - your Aunt owned a clock shop?!"

She nodded, rolling her eyes. "For about a year. Dumbest idea of the century, too; she didn't even know how to fix clocks or anything!"

"I always thought she was a little-"

"Nuts?"

"Well, I was gonna say 'directionless', but if you insist..."

"So," Adymm put in with a little cough, "this is the infamous Sabrina Spellman, huh?"

"Oh!" It's a good thing we had just been performing, as they probably couldn't see me blush through all that white make-up. "I'm sorry - Adymm, Sabrina; Sabrina, Adymm." Only  _after_ I said it did I realise they already shook hands.

"Infamous, am I?" She flashed me a wry smile. "What horror stories have you been telling people?"

"Only all of them," I quipped.

"She was a wreck when she got to Swords," Adymm blabbed, making me further want to crawl into a crack in the cushions and disappear. "I guess when you lose your best friend, your family and your hometown in the same day, it's a little hard to take."

"Yeah, that song does sound more country than industrial." Now Sabrina sounded a bit sober and wistful. "I ran into Jill and Cee Cee at the mall once, the August after you shipped out; they were moping around in the food court, like a couple of orphaned birdies. I think they missed their ringleader."

"Sounds pathetic," T.Q. laughed - I noticed Milnot elbow him, for which I was grateful.

"Oh well, I'm sure they did fine without me," I said modestly.

"Maybe after they got back into the swing of school, but yeah, it took them a while. Jill made head cheerleader, by the way."

"Really? Wow, didn't know she had it in her..."

"SABRINA!"

She looked over my shoulder at the counter, and I followed her gaze; her aunt was standing behind the counter, arms folded, where a line of unruly customers led almost out the door. "When your teatime with The Crow and company is done, we could use a little help back here!"

"Oh, geez!" Sabrina jumped up, dusting off her apron unnecessarily. "I can't believe I did that! Look, Libby, I'm really,  _really_  sorry, but-"

"No, it's okay," I laughed, standing as well and trying not to look crushed. "The lattés don't pour themselves, you said already."

She bit her lip for half a second. "Listen," she whispered quickly, "you're gonna let me treat you to some super-late-night Chinese after I get off, right? I won't take no for an answer!"

"Okay!" There was nothing I could do to deflate the grin spreading across my face. "Yeah, that sounds great."

"Great!" And with that, she bounded behind the counter, trying not to quail under Aunt Hilda's glare of doom.

For a fleeting second, I was on cloud nine... but as I plopped back down, I noticed the other guys all staring at me, and what I'd just done hit me like a sucker punch. "Um..."

"It's fine," Adymm reassured me. "We can go grab a motel room and just leave in the morning, right?"

"I wanted to do that, anyway," Greg muttered, idly watching one of the ceiling fans. "Dunno 'bout you lot, but I'm utterly knackered."

"As long as we get an early start in the morning," T.Q. said with an edge in his voice. "I sorta have this thing with my girl tomorrow night, so..."

"Yeah, you'll need time to pretend to shower," Milnot laughed.

"Go suck an egg!"

"Christ, are you still in bloody nappies, man?" Greg spat. "'Suck an egg'... ponce."

* * *

 

We hung around Hilda's and watched the last two acts of the night, having nothing else better to do. The closing act, Juice Box Manifesto, were pretty good, had a sort of Peppers versus Spin Doctors funk vibe going on... but Maggots-O-Plenty turned out to be a bunch of untrained newbies who thought owning the instruments made them experts. Greg threatened to go up there and forcibly remove them from the stage - a plan that got some support from the crowd. In fact, they wanted us to play an encore in their place, but we were too exhausted to even try.

They were all in a hurry to get outta there afterward. I asked Sabrina how long it was until she got off work, and she said maybe an hour, so I had time to run to the motel with them, get our arrangements set, take a quick shower and return (there's a fleabag about ten minutes from that coffee shop).

We got two rooms; one for T.Q., Milnot and Greg (T.Q. is used to sleeping in a bathtub, anyway), and one for... yeah, I need not explain this further. And yes, this manic gleam appeared in Adymm's eyes right after we booked the rooms, and it just wouldn't go away, despite me telling him repeatedly that I planned to make full use of BOTH twin beds. Good thing I was going back out - gave the horndog a chance to cool down.

Even though he hadn't picked up on my need to have some girl time with Sabrina at the coffee shop, when I asked him if he wanted to come with me he  _started_  to say "sure", but changed direction...

"Su- uhh, no thanks, babe."

I glanced over from the mirror, where I was applying a more appropriate (or should I say, "human") shade of make-up. "You sure? And don't call me 'Babe', I'm not a talking pig."

He grinned that wicked grin at me. "Yeah, I'm sure... I don't know how you can fathom going back out, I'm completely drained. But you guys have fun, though."

"Alrighty. Sleep well, Prince Valiant."

"Anything for you, my queen." He pecked me on the cheek. "Just don't go running off to Vegas with her."

"Adymm!"

* * *

 

The windows of Hilda's were dark when I got there. Had I taken too long? It seemed like only an hour - maybe she remembered a prior appointment, or closing up wore her out too much and she went home. Right before I gave up and headed back to the motel, I heard a thump inside. Squinting, I tried to make out the shapes in the dim light...

The first was bending over to pick up a mop or something; one of the coffee boys, he had been there earlier. The second was taking a bucket of water to the back room... it was definitely a girl, but from my vantage point it could've been Sandra Bullock and I'd never know it.

As I watched, puzzled, it seemed to me they were awfully friendly with each other for co-workers; I thought most companies discourage that kind of fraternising? I mean, not that they were jumping each other's bones or anything drastic like that, or even holding hands, but-

Then, the other figure waved at me to come in - I guess it was Sabrina, but the guy was obviously not Harvey. What was going on?

_END Chapter Two_


	3. Reunited, And It Freaks So Good

"Hey, Libby! Say, you clean up nice!"

"Thanks," I replied with a chuckle. "I used weapons-grade de-goth product."

"Doesn't that come in mango-peach?"

The three of us laughed. Then I guess we noticed there were three of us, because we all seemed to shift about undecidedly at the same time.

"I'm Josh," he volunteered, sticking out his hand; I shook it. The guy was kind of ruggedly handsome, I guess; tan skin, light-brown hair, five o'clock shadow.

"Libby Chessler. Charmed."

"Charmed? You're a goth AND a witch?"

For some reason, Sabrina coughed; when we looked at her, she giggled. "Sorry, I thought it was funny!"

"Y'know," I said, mildly insulted, "just because I picked up a little culture in the Big Apple..."

"I think you picked up three or four," Sabrina muttered. "But hey, if anybody can juggle 'em, it's you, sister!"

"Yeah, definitely," Josh affirmed. "I mean, I'd never guess you were the same girl singing all the angsty stuff just a few hours ago."

Attacked again, and so soon? "Hey, it's not  _all_ angsty-"

"Don't mind him," Sabrina put in quickly, placing her hand on my arm - an action that said she was more apologetic than her words conveyed. "Folk music is more Josh's style."

"Apparently." You better believe he was going to get the full-on ice queen.

"Sorry if that came out a little harsh..." See there? He's backpedaling already - good to know my natural skills haven't atrophied from disuse. "Can I go back and introduce myself again?"

"Maybe later," I replied with my coldest, sweetest smile. "For now, Sabrina and I have a much-overdue game of catch-up."

"We do at that," she agreed, glancing between us nervously before turning to Josh. "Can you finish closing?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. See you tomorrow, Sabrina... nice to meet you, Libby!"

"Mm."

"Later, Josh!"

And out we went into the night air.

"Well, that was awkward."

"Yeah." I shivered and folded my arms; my jacket had no sleeves, and even though I had switched to the turtleneck, I was still freezing. "So, um, that friend of yours..."

"You hate him."

"No, no I don't," I lied quickly. "He seems like a nice guy, really."

"Oh, c'mon, Libby; you don't think I can spot your Cruella act a mile away? You practiced it on me for three years..."

"Not quite three years," I said indignantly... before I sighed. "But you're right, I was kinda rude to him. Sorry."

She sighed as well, her breath forming clouds that flowed behind her as we walked. "Don't worry about it... I mean, maybe cheerleader-at-10 was overkill, but he was being a touch insensitive."

"Oh, there can be no question! I am sorry, though... let him know for me, will you?"

I could see a smile sneak across her lips. "Sure thing."

After a few moments of walking peacefully, basking in the glow of her company, I cleared my throat and asked, "So, where are we headed?"

* * *

About an hour later found us laughing over the lukewarm remnants of moo shu, pot stickers and fried rice that littered our plates. The other patrons of Wong's Wok were probably a little annoyed, but what did we care? This day had been like, eighteen months overdue, and we were going to enjoy every last second of it if it killed us.

"And they just let him drop?!"

I nodded, my mouth too full to answer right away; one forced swallow allowed me to elaborate. "Hey, if you saw that little cockroach and his pit-stains jumping at you, I doubt you'd be in any hurry to catch."

Sabrina's laugh rang in my ears; I could tell she was trying her best to be quiet, but once she really got going it was like spitting into the wind. "Wow, I bet his face looked like hamburger for weeks!"

"You mean it doesn't still?"

It was probably about then the cashier came over for the second time and told us to keep it down. Even though he was very obviously a loser (and not even Chinese), we figured we should try harder - or at least, I figured I shouldn't tell any more embarassing stories about T.Q. since they were pretty much always funny.

"Man, I missed this," I said suddenly.

Sabrina looked up at me with a curious expression on her face, then gusted warmly. "Yeah, it's weird. Don't get me wrong, I missed you when you left, too, but I figured I'd just forget eventually - partly because we weren't really civil to each other very long."

I laughed harshly. "Civil or not, we go back three-and-a-half years, Safreakna; history like that is hard to block out."

"Point taken. But... I felt horrible for you last Christmas, you sounded so lonely."

I shrugged, twirling a chopstick between my thumb and index finger. "Well, I was; before I left, I had Jill and Cee Cee, and Harvey to pointlessly pine after, and you and Valerie to pick on... and at Swords, nobody really knew I was alive."

"I still can't believe those jerks. Seriously, what kind of school breeds students that don't even TRY to approach the new girl? Sounds rotten to me."

"Hey, it's not like we all held up 'Welcome Sabrina' banners when you got to Westbridge. Maybe it's just human nature, to not accept somebody before you know anything about them."

"You had that down to a science," she muttered with a wan smile. "In fact, I distincly remember when we met..."

I blinked. "Really, you remember that? I don't, it was so long ago..."

"Repressing much?" She pulled her legs up Indian-style into her chair before continuing. "My first day, first period, in Mr Pool's. Unbelievably, he made us dissect frogs before he even learned our names. Harvey was three seconds away from asking me to be his lab partner, but you sailed in and removed the burden from me."

My hand flew to my mouth. "No way - I did that, right off the bat?" Both hands covered my face as the memories came flooding back. "Oh my God!"

She nodded sagely, deciding to make me squirm even more. "You always did seem to have a thing for him..."

"Well, maybe, but you got him in the end, anyw-" Shoot. There are days life just needs an "Undo" button.

As I anticipated, her face fell even more than it already had; she stared down into her green tea vacantly. "I sure did. It was fun while it lasted, I guess."

"Sabrina, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bring up the whole-"

"I know," she said with a nod and a cleansing breath. "Don't worry about it, Libby. And I guess I'll never get why he really broke it off with me, especially if I don't see him anymore... but it's probably better I don't."

I shook my head. "You amaze me sometimes, you know that? I can't believe how together you are about the whole thing..."

"It's been like, eight months or whatever," she said, deflecting my compliment with a tight smile. "Trust me, I was a mess pretty much all summer."

"Damn, when I heard Harvey Kinkle actually broke up with you, I had to wonder what went wrong in that thick skull of his... I mean, did the pea finally fall off the pedestal?"

She laughed weakly. "You don't have to do that, but thanks. Aunt Hilda told me how you reacted when you heard the news, and while I don't necessarily need you to 'take care of it' Sopranos-style... I want you to know I appreciate it."

I leaned across the table to pat her hand. "Anything for my favourite freak. But you can't make jokes like that anymore now that I work for Mr. Scapelli - it's entirely possible I _could_ arrange a hit."

Her eyebrows twitched. "What? C'mon, you're kidding... right?"

"I dunno, some of the customers do tend to wear Armani..."

_END Chapter Three_


	4. A Simple Twist Of Freak

"Are you sure you don't mind walking me?"

"Nah," Sabrina said with a slight shake of her head. "My place is only a couple blocks over, it's not a major detour."

"Crap, now I'll be worried about you getting back okay."

She laughed. "Libby, we're talking about Westbridge - you know, crime rate of negative four? I'm sure I can survive."

"Okay, okay. No need to make me sound like your mother any more than I already do."

"If you really sounded like my mother, you'd be speaking Swahili or something."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "Your mother's Swahili?!"

It seemed like millenia and yet no time at all passed between the restaurant and the motel; we had decided to leave when Mr. Wong himself came out and told us they generally discouraged guests staying longer than three hours. On the way home, still more tales were told, more laughs were shared, and despite frostbite setting in, I generally felt more comfortable in my own skin than I had since that perfect day at the end of Junior year. Finally, we got to the lobby of Sitanzp Inn.

"Well, I guess this is it."

"Yeah," she said, swinging her arms. "I guess I'll see you arou-"

"Sabrina?"

Her eyes flicked up. "Hmm?"

"I forgot to thank you for one more thing. The yearbook."

"Oh, yeah," she said, her frost-kissed cheeks glowing. "It took me forever to wheedle an extra copy outta the yearbook committee; those guys can be so tight-fisted!"

I tried to laugh, but it came out as a hacking fit; probably the frigid air starting to get to me. She patted me on the back until I could continue. "I mean, the letters were great, but that - it was all the memories I could never get back, and you found a way to send them to me in one neat little package. It, uh... it meant a lot to me."

"Ahh, it was nothing." She tends to do that - brush off grand gestures of kindness like they took all of five minutes to pull off. "I'm just glad you didn't already have one. But I am curious..."

"About...?"

"What did you look like in your schoolgirl uniform? I bet it was adorable!"

My nostrils flared.

* * *

I heard a knock on the door. "Yeah?" I yelled, trying not to let shampoo drip into my mouth.

"Libbs, T.Q.'s bitching about leaving on time, and I know it won't make any difference, but he asked me to tell you to hurry up."

"Tell him to go hurry himself!"

"That's what I figured." A pause. "I could come in there and help you if you thought it'd speed things along."

"Oh yes," I called in my most sarcastic tone. "Maybe trying to keep your hands from wandering into forbidden territory will cleanse me faster."

"Why keep them from wandering?"

"Just get back to packing, Sir Libido McHornypants."

Several minutes later found me racing out the door, shoving one boot on as I hopped. It was already almost ten, and while normally I wouldn't care what T.Q. wants, I should've left the restaurant earlier than I did and therefore was solely responsible for us being so late. Trust me, here - nobody can wake me up when I need my beauty rest.

Milnot was just collecting the money to pay for our rooms when a Vista Cruiser (of all the cars on the planet) swerved its way around the building, screeching to a halt two inches in front of Adymm's guitar case. We all gasped, and I gasped more when I saw who got out.

" _Kids!_ " Hilda Spellman yelled, trying to run around her car in heels. "Hey, wait up a second!"

"What's all this, then?" Greg said, setting down the last bag of laundry he was trying to stuff into the van.

"Whew!" she gasped, bending down to clutch her knees as she caught her breath. "I... I was afraid you'd already left!"

"Take it easy, Ms Spellman," I said, patting her on the back. "Get your wind back."

A few moments (and many awkward looks between us band members) later, she finally straightened up, leaning against the van. "For the luvva Pete, I need to get to the gym once in a blue moon..."

"Look, ma'am," Adymm began patiently, "we really should hit the road pretty soon, so I'm not-"

"You'll do no such thing!" Suddenly she was upright and panicky again. "That's why I'm here, to ask you not to go!"

"Huh?" T.Q. said.

"Alrighty, here's the deal," she panted, taking a step forward and putting a hand on my shoulder. "A bunch of the mongrels - I mean, customers - have been coming up to Josh and myself this morning, asking who you were and where you're playing next. So, in an attempt to increase the ol' cash flow, I, um..."

"You what?" I managed through clinched teeth; her nails were digging into my collarbone.

"Well... I sorta, kinda... promisedthemyouguyswouldbeplayingagaintonight?" Her toothy grin was more of a bracing grimace.

Milnot folded his arms. "Say that again?"

"Oh, come on, you guys!" She turned to look around at everybody, eyebrows arched in perpetual poutiness. "I need a dynamite act for my Friday night showcase! It's just one more show, and they're gonna be expecting you, now! Do you really wanna disappoint potential fans like that?"

"I rather think they'll be blaming you if we don't show," Greg muttered crossly.

"I'll tell them you cancelled," she said defiantly. "I swear, I'll do it!"

"Listen, Ms Spellman," I soothed, placing my arm around her shoulders to calm her down. "We just don't have the money to keep these rooms another night. I'm sorry, but maybe-"

"Oh," she said simply, "that's no big deal, I'll pay for the rooms."

"We'll need more insentive than a place to sleep," Adymm continued for me. "Food, and gas, and-"

"Fine, fine," Hilda sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'll pay you the same as last night, okay?"

After a few moments of silence, T.Q. spoke up. "No way, you guys! Remember, that thing?"

"Listen, you blighter," Greg said, pointing at him, "another gig pays this well trumps your ickle girly-wirly evening."

"It does pay pretty well," I admitted.

"You just wanna stay here with your gal pal," T.Q. growled.

"So what?" I shot back, trying not to cringe at "gal pal". "That doesn't make the money any less real."

After glancing around again, Milnot sighed. "As long as we for sure leave tomorrow, 'cause if I'm not back for Christmas Eve, my-"

"Your mum, we know," Greg cut him off. "And I've nowhere to be, really."

"Mrs Spellman," Adymm said importantly, "it looks like you've got yourself a deal."

Her eyes lit up, and she jumped up and down like a kid waiting to meet the Easter Bunny. "Yippee! Oh, this is perfect; I have to go tell Josh!" She got halfway to the car before yelling, "You go on at eight, okay?"

"Got it," Adymm yelled back. "See you around seven!"

Then she was off, and we were left to think about what we had just done. And deal with the fallout.

"That's great," T.Q. grumbled, dragging his duffel back inside the room. "That's just peachy. How'm I supposed to break this to Ophelia?"

"Send her a postcard," Adymm chimed in.

"Oi, mate!" Greg tossed a handful of change at him. "There's this marvellous communication device they've invented, where you put in those bits of metal and push some-"

"Hardy har har," T.Q. cut him off. "Yeah, just laugh it up, you guys."

"Don't mind if we do," I giggled. What? Don't look at me like that, I was excited! Sure, I felt a tad sorry for him, but I couldn't help being all jazzed - I was gonna get to stay in Westbridge another night!

_END Chapter Four_


	5. Conversations With Weird People

Much to my extreme boredom, the rest of the morning was spent taking a leisurely tour of Westbridge. I mean, it was kinda fun to show the guys around, pointing out our mundane sights and relating stories of yesteryear, but they didn't really wanna stop anywhere, and it all felt so pointless. At least the radio in the van works.

After a late lunch at The Slicery (which was under new management; I heard rumours around the tables that they were changing the name to The Pizzery, which doesn't strike me as a good idea), we headed back to Hilda's a little early to stow our equipment in the back room. I tried to find Sabrina, but she wasn't there. Josh gave me directions to her college house; apparently, he's dating one of her roommates and is over there all the time. Since the guys were busy with all the equipment and I was mostly in the way, they had no problems with me running off toward Adams for a while.

* * *

It didn't take me long to find, but only because I recognised the neighbourhood from the previous night. Double-checking the address, I rang.

"Hellooo?" a bottle-tanned girl with over-crimped auburn hair sang out as she opened the door. "Can I help ya?"

"Hopefully," I said, glancing over her shoulder. "I'm looking for Sabrina Spellman... does she live here?"

"That she does!" The girl backed up to let me in. "Straight ahead, past the couch."

"Thanks." However, before I got two steps I walked into her hand, stabbing me in the cleavage.

"I'm Morgan Cavanaugh," she said cheerfully. "What's your name?"

"Libby Chessler," I replied pleasantly as I moved her hand away from my chest and shook it. "Pleasure."

"I'm sure it is. Well, there's this rockin' party at Phi Kappa Alpha tonight with my name all over it - or all over the lips of the guys, I'm sure, so I'd better start prepping."

I flashed her a plastic smile. "You do that."

"Ta!" And off she skipped up the stairs.

Their place was nice enough; fully-furnished, not-so-tacky wallpaper... weird chachkas everywhere. It was a bit off the beaten path, but did seem to say "carefree college existence" loud and clear. Plus, it was cool that there was actually an upstairs, even if that irritating girl lived up there. But, after a casual glance around, I decided that was enough of the rest of the house.

"Sabrina?" I called as I knocked on her door. "Hey, freak, are you in there?"

"No, she isn't."

I must've jumped five feet! When I landed, I whirled around to see a somewhat pallid boy carrying a large jar of what looked like... well, it looked like plutonium or something. "AUGH, you scared the beJESUS outta me!"

"Well, my people don't especally believe in him, but okay." He maneuvered a hand free and began pumping one of mine. "Miles Goodman. And you are...?"

"Libby," I said shortly as we shook, quickly growing tired of introducing myself. "What do you mean, your 'people'?"

He blinked. "Huh? Right, sorry... Jewish as charged. It was supposed to be a joke, albeit a fairly-plebeian one."

"Oh, okay; thought you might be in a suicide cult or something."

A bitter smile. "Not this week."

I leaned back against the wall. "So... do you know when she'll be back?"

"Oh, probably soon - her and Roxie are out picking up the basics. Y'know, Pepsi, nachos, toilet paper... hopefully the high-grade filament tape and I asked for."

"The what?"

Suddenly he got this majorly paranoid look in his eyes. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Gotta go." He turned to hurry down a hallway toward another door, took a few steps, then turned back. "Hey, you're welcome to wait on the couch. Help yourself to the TV." Then the door was slamming.

To hell with waiting around on that smelly old couch; I barged into Sabrina's room and plopped down on one of the beds, crossing my legs and laying back. Glancing around, I saw plenty of memorabillia that gave evidence she lived here; a picture of a blonde woman that could only be her mom on the nightstand, some tiny stuffed animal on a shelf, a ratty old Savage Garden t-shirt hanging from a bedpost ( _EW!_ ), and - most telling of all - a Westbridge High yearbook on her desk, next to her laptop. Caught up in the moment, I grabbed it and started flipping through the pages.

Sure enough, there she was, grinning up at me. Her senior quote was, "Westbridge forever!" - a new record in lameness. Sometimes I wondered how we had become friends... but that train of thought usually pulled into Nostalgia Station, serving the city of Weepyville. I knew why, and I knew that despite her numerous flaws, she had the truest heart of gold I'd ever known.

Then, in a moment of inspiration - or maybe just over-emotiveness - I grabbed a pen, flipped to the front, found an empty space and began writing; anything, whatever came to mind, everything I wanted to say that never seemed to come out right if at all. I had just put down the pen with a satisfied nod when the front door slammed open, followed by gales of laughter; I closed the book and crept to the open bedroom door.

"You cracked, that's all there is to it!"

"I did not," an unfamiliar voice answered. "The guy was like, two feet tall, I was thrown off."

"You stuttered!" Then the two were through the door and headed to the kitchen (well, the "kitchen" was pretty much just a corner of the living room, but whatever) with armfulls of brown paper bags; I tiptoed to the middle of the living room before speaking up.

"Need some help, there?"

A bag shifted aside and I saw one of Sabrina's blue eyes peering at me. "What the- Libby!" With that, she dumped all the bags on the counter and ran over, wiping her hands on her jeans. "Holy Toledo, what are you still doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too," I laughed. "Didn't your aunt tell you? Us Absinthians are playing an exclusive encore tonight!"

"Sweet!" Her face lights up like nobody else's... "Does that mean we get to hang out today?"

"Only if you can stand it!"

She squealed and hugged me; I swear I thought she was gonna start jumping around, but she stopped herself short. "Oh, you have to meet my roommates!"

"Well, I already met two of them," I said as I pulled my purse strap back to my shoulder. "The ditzy redhead and the, uh... well, the guy."

"Miles is kinda hard to describe," she conceded with a nod. "But let me introduce you to-"

"I can handle this part," the other girl said as she walked over; without grocery sacks in front of her face, I could now see she was lithe and well-tanned, with long, straight black hair. "Roxie King."

"Rox, this is Libby, my old high school rival I was telling you about."

"Oh, really?" we both said at the same time; I added, "Just the flattering parts, I hope?"

Sabrina giggled nervously. "Why, of course! What bad things could I possibly have to say about you?"

It seemed I needed only to glare.

"Don't worry," Roxie said with a shake of her head. "I could tell she was burying the real dirt, so I'm sure your most unpleasant secrets are safe."

"Gee, how mollifying that is," I replied, still staring Sabrina down.

As she began putting the groceries away, Roxie called behind her, "So, Libbs... Sabrina tells me you sing?"

If I'd been drinking anything, I would've done a spit-take; she tripped over that nickname almost as fast as Adymm had! "Uh, yeah, if you can call it that."

"Oh, don't be so modest," Sabrina said, elbowing me. "Libby's got a voice like an angel, the vocal cords of a saint, the-"

"The patience of Job?" Roxie asked. "She must if she's been  _your_ friend for three years."

We both kinda laughed nervously, but I opted to answer. "We may have  _known_ each other that long, but knowing and liking aren't the same."

"Ooh," Roxie said as she leaned on the counter, a jar of peanut butter in hand. "You hated her, too, huh?"

"Hey, what is this?!" Sabrina whined indignantly as we laughed. Then I had a thought.

"Oh, Roxie, you should totally check us out tonight; I'm sure Sabrina can get you in for free, and you get to see me look like a complete horror - we're talking Rocky Picture Show calibre, here."

"Wouldn't wanna miss that," she muttered with a mischevious grin.

"Crap!" Sabrina blurted suddenly. "Man, I need to get changed and get over to Hilda's; my shift starts in like, an hour, and-"

"Oh." My face was probably transparent, but I swear I tried to hide my disappointment. "Yeah, most bosses are slave-drivers, aren't they?"

"Man, this sucks," she went on, scrunching up her face. "I completely forgot I was working today!"

"Hey, no biggie. Some other time?"

Sabrina glanced up at me, fidgeting. "Well... maybe I should ask Aunt Hilda if I can start a couple hours late today, and I could go in earlier on-"

"Look, don't put yourself out over it," I half-laughed. "Seriously, it's not like I'm being drafted; Chelsea's only about three hours from here, I could drive up sometime."

"Aw, it's totally not a-"

"Watching this 'polite-off' is making me nauseous!" Roxie shouted, stepping between us. "I'll call Hilda  _for_ you, okay?"

"Okay!" we both said - probably a little too enthusiastically.

"Okie-dokie, then! Now, you two kids run along and play, but look both ways before you cross the street and eat up all your veggies!" I distinctly heard her breathe _"GOD"_ as she moved toward the phone.

"Woo-hoo!" Sabrina shouted, raising her fists in triumph. "We former Fighting Scallions are free to do with the afternoon as we see fit!"

"Victory is ours, so sayeth the Libby!" My grin probably looked ridiculous, but I didn't care - I was happy, dammit! "So, what do we do now?"

She shrugged, pacing over to the kitchen to put groceries away. "Whatever we want, right? Maybe go hit the mall, or a matinee?"

"Hell, I don't even know what's showing."

Then, my grin got wider. Sabrina seemed to notice, because she asked me, "What's that plan brewing behind those peepers?"

"I know what we can do."

_END Chapter Five_


	6. Don't Ew Forget About Me

"Are all systems go?"

"Oh, it won't budge. Damn!"

"Hey Libby, let me try... aha! See? It was just stuck."

"No way! Wow, I could've sworn-"

"C'mon, let's go!"

The air was frigid and musty as we made our way through the hallways, looking around at all the familiar things, snickering and gaping openly at some of the changes. Our beloved Westbridge High School was not the same, and yet it was as if we'd never left. I couldn't remember having seen it so dark, so devoid of life... or of heat. I suppose they turned off the furnace during winter break to save a few pennies. But everything was exactly where I remembered it...

"Oh my God, Mr. Pool's room!" I said, opening the door and looking around inside. "I can't believe it's been like, three years since I've been in here."

"Aw, you don't really miss his lectures on mitosis, do you?"

I laughed, hopping up to sit on his desk. "Only a little..."

"Y'know," she said slowly, looking through the shelves of resource books, "it's only been a few months since I was here, but it feels even longer... like years. I'm glad you talked me into this."

"I can't believe how much I missed this place. I mean, it's like you wait your whole life to be done with high school, and you're barely out before you miss it!"

"Exactly!" Now she was absentmindedly tossing a pestle into the air and catching it. "For all the craziness, the mutated food, the unreasonable expectations... and all the Libby Chesslers," she added with a pointed glare, "we did have some good times here."

"Ooh, we should go mess around in the teachers' lounge!"

"Dude, we totally should!"

Somehow, we spent hours in those hallowed halls, doing things that would bring down some serious detention if we were still enrolled there (but nothing to deface the place). After buying a couple sodas in the cafeteria, we stacked up all the ashtrays in the lounge, slipped gossipy notes into lockers, played an impromptu game of "vollsocckeysketball" in the gym, and pretty much yelled and ran everywhere. It was like being told you could streak in church (and don't think streaking didn't cross our minds... but it was freaking December, after all). It's lucky that fire exit hadn't been fixed or none of it would've been possible, and that would be a shame.

We were just going to turn all the flyers on the bulletin board sideways when-

"What was that?!"

I looked up. "What was what?"

"That noise!" she whispered. "Listen..."

We both crouched in silence next to the bulletin board. After a few seconds, it became clearer... and closer.

"Sabrina, is that... singing?"

Sure enough.

"Ceciiiiilia, you're breakin' my heart, you're shakin' my confidence daily..."

We peered around the corner to see none other than Principal Willard Kraft, bopping along with a clipboard in hand and looking up and down the hallways, checking the classrooms.

"This can _NOT_  be happening," she breathed. "Doesn't he  _ever_ take off?!"

He spotted us soon enough, and that went something like this: "I'm beggin' ya please to come ho- _OH LORD!_ "

" _AAH!!_ "

We clutched each other while he clutched at his chest, leaning against the wall for support. "Great Scott, what are you children doing-" Then he leaned forward, adjusted his rectangular glasses, and growled, "You."

"Me?" we both asked.

His walrusy moustache bristled as he smiled humourlessly. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my least favourite former student, Sabrina Spellman. Back to steal all our valuables, are we?"

"Like there's anything valuable here, Mr. Kraft," she laughed. "I mean, other than higher education, of course!"

"Education schmeducation. Why are you really here? Or did you already flunk out of college and decide to come back to make my life miserable for some remedial classes?"

"No," she replied defiantly. "We just wanted to take a little stroll down Memory Lane, that's all."

"Yes, well, your little 'stroll' constitutes breaking-and-entering," he said with a satisfied gleam in his eye as he reached into his pocket for a cellular phone (and no kidding, it was an extremely outdated model the size of a mailbox). "You may be beyond my jurisdiction, but not the Westbridge P.D.'s!"

"Mr. Kraft, you can't!" I yelped.

"Oh, yes I-" But he stopped dialing when he noticed me. "Wait a second... Miss Chessler?"

"Live and in colour," I said with a shrug.

The baffled look on his face was priceless. "But... but what are you doing here with this riff-raff?! I mean, I expected so much more from you!"

"Come now," I said in my most influental tone (one I had tempered to perfection during my tenure at Westbridge High), "you don't really need to call the police, do you? We only wanted to revisit our Alma Mater. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"I, but, I-" He smoothed the top half of his three-piece suit. "Listen, there are laws against-"

Deciding to press my luck, I placed a hand on his arm. "Oh, lighten up, Willie-Poo... you don't really wanna see li'l ol' me go to jail just because I waxed a teensy bit nostalgic, do you?"

He waivered; I had him! "I don't know..."

"I promise we'll never do it again."

A few more seconds passed before he heaved a weighty sigh. "Very well, Miss Chessler. Just be sure and take that miscreant with you when you leave," he added, jabbing the antenna of his phone in Sabrina's direction. "Consider this a Christmas present from your former faculty."

"Thank you, Mr. Kraft!" Sabrina squealed, hugging him. Personally, I thought she was going too far, and so did he.

"Off! Get off me, you blight on humanity!" He peeled her arms from around him and pointed toward the front doors. "Now if you would be so kind as to vacate the premises before I change my mind!"

"We won't forget this, sir!" I put in, flashing an extra-innocent smile just for good measure.

With a nod and a mumbled "Nice to see you again, Miss Chessler," he glared daggers at Sabrina until we both shrank back toward the doors and fled like extras in a Godzilla movie.

* * *

"That is  _so_ not fair!"

"Oh, it was amazing," I glowed, feeling almost as good as if it were happening all over again.

"Don't rub my nose in it," Sabrina continued with a pout. "You know full well I didn't make it to that Pumpkins concert back in Sophomore year - and here you come along, bragging about being in the pit at their big finale!"

I squirmed slightly. "That's right; I heard you were grounded over a crappy grade, and Harvey and Jenny went without you. Man, I'm sorry, Safreakna..."

"Oh, forget it," she said in a false-mopey tone. "I'm sure I'll go on... somehow."

"Not if I kill you for laying this fifty-pound guilt trip on me!"

It was almost seven by the time we got back to the coffee house; neither of us even had time to change or anything. Fortunately, I knew Adymm would bring all those extra-gothy clothes with him to the coffee house, so all I had to do was throw on some leather and fishnets from the safety of a public restroom. Yeah, the thought thrilled me too, but business is business... and music is our business.

As we rounded the corner toward the cafИ, Sabrina stopped giggling long enough to say, "Geez, I can't believe we're here already."

"Damn, looks like it," I sighed with a sad smile. "And I guess the show must go on."

"So they say... but y'know, it's been awesome hanging out with you again these past couple days."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah - great."

 _Too_ great. Too great to let go.

"And we have to do that again sometime," she went on as she opened the door for me. "The look on Mr. Kraft's face when he saw me!"

"Totally - I won't be able to forget the ghastly sound of him warbling Simon and Garfunkel's greatest hits as long as I live!"

_END Chapter Six_


	7. Freaking Down The House

"Are you ready to-"

Before I could finish my signature (albeit clichéd) opening line, our poor audience were assaulted by one of the worst waves of feedback in the history of earaches. It wasn't content to hit us and back off, oh no - it lingered like a bad smell. Most of the patrons of Hilda's covered their ears, glancing at the mohawked guy in the corner by the soundboard, who just shrugged as he fiddled with the knobs until all was quiet again.

"Sorry," I said nervously; I noticed everyone glaring at me, and my survival instincts kicked in. "This has been a test of the emergency sound-check system. In the event of a real emergency, we might get booed off the stage."

It worked, they laughed. I counted off to the band and we started playing "Kiss Me Goodbye," and by the end of it we'd won the crowd over enough that they stayed for the rest.

In Absinthia's encore performance was an even bigger success than the previous night's; we were more comfortable playing the same venue twice, so we took more risks, brought the sound bigger and badder than before. Not only that, but to close the show we left them with a Smashing Pumpkins tribute just for kicks, which really got everybody cheering.

The only thing that threatened to throw me off my game was the flash bulbs going off. Yeah, I know as a band you're supposed to expect this, but I wasn't used to it - one guy took one picture of us during a show before, and I almost crashed into Milnot's drumkit. That night, some nimrod was snapping away all through the set. Sure, I'm moderately hot, but who the hell needs that many pictures of an unsigned group of nobodies?

Either way, I'd say the whole thing went over pretty well, and the band played their absolute best. Nobody was hounding us for autographs like in New York, but plenty of patrons gave us a pat on the back, or offered to buy us a latté. It was nice.

* * *

"We were wicked sweet tonight!" T.Q. crowed as we walked down the dimly-lit street.

"I totally nailed that solo in 'Zero'," Adymm said blissfully. "I always muck it up when I'm practicing, but tonight..."

I grinned. "Yeah, it was like there was no stopping us!"

"Hey, you guys!"

Turning around, I saw Sabrina running after us, with Josh and Roxie following at a more relaxed pace. I stepped forward and asked, "Hey, what's the matter?"

"You forgot your pay," she panted, handing me an envelope.

"Cripes, I thought you were gonna collect that," Greg muttered to Adymm.

"I thought you were," he replied.

"At least we got it now," Milnot said. "Thanks, 'Brina."

"Sure," she wheezed, smiling up at us.

"You guys were totally on fire," Josh called out... and then he held up an expensive photographer's camera. "I got some damn good shots, too!"

"Oh, so that was  _you,_ " I growled playfully. "I thought I was gonna go blind!"

"Just doing my job," he said defensively.

Roxie stepped forward, taking the camera from him. "It's my fault, guys. See, as long as I was there I figured I'd write up a little blurb about the show for the Adams Advocate and I needed a couple pictures to go with it. I had no idea," she continued as she turned to Josh, "that the help I enlisted would be so gung-ho."

He shrugged, backing away. "Hey, I got into it; excuse me. I guess I'm just a closet shutterbug."

"Consider yourself outed," Sabrina quipped.

Adymm laughed. "We'll call it even if you send us the double prints of the best ones."

"Deal," he said, shaking his hand. "Anyway, I gotta get back to the shop and help Hilda close up, shoo away the last of the refill junkies. Catch you later, Sabrina!"

"See ya," she said as he ran off. "Anyway, can we walk you guys back to the hotel?"

" _MO-_ tel," Greg corrected. "Do try and refrain from reminding us of just how substandard our accomidations are."

"It is pretty scuzzy," I whispered to Sabrina and Roxie.

"Speaking of which," Roxie said as we walked, "you were right about looking freakish; I couldn't even picture you all decked out like you are right now from earlier!"

"Lay off," I said with false dignity. "I wear twenty pounds of only the finest European makeup."

"And the finest European leather jacket?" she asked. "Looks like it was a dog's chew-toy."

Adymm chuckled. "Actually, Rox, that's a funny story..."

* * *

"Libbs?"

"Yeah?"

Adymm rolled over onto his side and turned the lamp on, looking at me across the divide between our two beds. "Are you... happy?"

I propped my head up. "What do you mean? Sure I am."

"I mean, in New York."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Nothing... nevermind."

"Okay. G'night."

He turned out the light and we both rolled over to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, I was just nodding off when the light came back on.

"Adymm-"

"Are you sure?"

I sighed, rolling over to look at him again. "Why are you suddenly trying to be my therapist? What's this all about?"

He stretched his hands behind his head. "I dunno... you just act happier since we got to Westbridge."

"Oh. Well, I'm home, visiting my old stomping grounds and friends and stuff. It's nice."

A few seconds went by before he whispered, "Home, huh?"

Unable to take this passive-agressive tripe anymore, I sat up. "Please tell me what your deal is so I can go to sleep, okay?"

"I'm just thinking... it seems like you'd be better off if you moved back here."

I stared at him. "That's it?"

"Well... yeah."

"Adymm," I sighed (again), "of course there are things I miss about this place, but that doesn't necessarily mean everything will be perfect if I move back. Besides, I've got some pretty strong ties in the Apple now, too."

"Yeah, like what?"

Maybe he sensed he had misstepped, as I didn't have to wait very long before he looked up at me and saw how frosty my gaze was.

"Uh... Libby, I-"

"How can you say that?" I uttered. "I've known you for a year and a half, Adymm, we've been going out for like, two months - of course you're important to me! What kind of callous bitch do you think I am?"

"Listen," he said quietly, sitting up himself. "It's just that - well, I said 'I love you' a couple times now, and you never say it back. How else is a guy supposed to take that?"

"Take it however you want to take it," I mumbled as I threw the sheets off, grabbing a Bic and a Newport from his pack on the nightstand.

"What are you doing?"

"Being stressed," I said as I flicked. "By you, I might add."

He grabbed my wrists. "Stop that."

"Oh, so what's good for the gander is bad for the goose?" I snapped.

"Libby, c'mon."

I rolled my eyes and threw the cigarette and lighter at him - not that I had truly wanted them, anyway. "Whatever. I need some air."

"Now wait a freakin' minute," he said standing with me. "Aren't we gonna talk about this?"

"About what?" I shouted. "About how I'm a terrible girlfriend because I don't fall in line with some arbitrary rubric of spousal behaviour?"

"We're not married," he corrected. How could he have missed all the important parts of that sentence and zeroed in on that minor, pointless snafu?

"Keep it up if you want it to stay that way," I threatened quietly as I wriggled into a pair of jeans.

"You are not going out there," he said suddenly - and that time, he  _knew_ he misspoke instantly, and my icy tone only confirmed.

"Is that right?"

"No, I just mean," he backpedaled quickly, "it's so late. You shouldn't be running around alone."

"You don't have to worry about some evil, unloving girl like me; I'm sure I'll repel any attackers without having to resort to the pepper spray in my purse."

"Libby, don't be like this, please? I'm trying to-"

"I need air," I said simply as I shoved my feet into my boots, hobbling toward the door. "A wise man would let me get it before I say something I regret."

He hesitated between surrender and steeling himself for a long fight for a few seconds before he shook his head. "Fine. As you wish, Your Majesty... as always."

The last look I shot him was full of not just contempt, but as much pain as I could pack into one facial expression. Then I was out the door.

_END Chapter Seven_


	8. Libby, It's Cold Outside

Aimlessly, I wandered the streets of Westbridge, my outrage and my purse as my sole travelling companions on that cold December evening. Too bad all I was wearing was that damn jacket and a silk negligee over pants, which was not only chilly, but it had to look pretty skanky. I also swore I'd never leave the city without a sleeve-bearing coat again, because that breezy leather was  _not_ cutting it.

That last barb hurt. Adymm wasn't supposed to use the royalty thing - OUR thing - as a weapon; it felt so wrong, like blasphemy or something. He had just gone too damn far and he had to recognise that, even if I had to stay out until two in the morning to make it happen.

I was really shivering, though, rubbing my arms constantly... and starting to feel a little tired. It had to be at least one or two by then, and I was already worn out from the gig at Hilda's. That's when I realised I was lost.

Where was everybody? I had grown so used to New York City, where the teeming masses are out all night long... but Westbridge wasn't like that, folks stayed in after dark, and very few people partied into the wee hours. Or maybe they came out on warmer nights? Who knows?

More importantly, Adymm actually believed that just because I was enjoying this hometown vacation that I'd forgotten all about him. Did he truly think I was that shallow? Sure, maybe when he first met me I still had some lingering vapidity, but I'd grown up a lot in the past year and a half, right? How  _dare_ he think I'd dump him and his city at a moment's notice! It made me sound so... cheap. I mean, is that how he really feels about me?

My vision was starting to blur from the tears and the cold, especially when the wind picked up. 'Who does Adymm think he is?' I thought angrily as I stumbled down another street, trying to decide if I knew where I was or not. 'He always pushes - nothing's ever enough! Why can't he accept that I don't want to rush what we have?'

"Hey... Libby, right?"

I spun around, causing me to feel even more nauseous and disoriented than I already did. "Adymm? Oh, there you are... I was s-starting to think you'd n-n-never come after me..."

The outline of his figure came closer; all I could see was the outline, and it looked all lumpy. What was wrong with my eyes? "Your lips look kinda blue..." And his voice sounded far away, too. "Are you okay?"

"I... I feel funny, Adymm... I th-think I need a... a nap..."

Yeah, that sounded good. A nap. His arms swept toward me, and I fell into them, content to be where I belonged, enveloped in the darkness. In his arms felt like home...

* * *

Stars. There were stars everywhere. And then, there was the sun; the sun burning brightly down onto me, making me feel warm all over.

I was lying next to Adymm on a blanket, surrounded by a grassy meadow. What a day, too! There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and not a soul for miles around. As I squinted at the sun, he smiled at me and handed me something.

"Drink this," he said, "it's cocoa."

"But... okay," I relented. He helped pour it down my throat, and all the warmth I felt on the outside was inside now, glowing within me... though I felt like the heat was taking too many liberties. Still, and I can't explain it totally, but the world just seemed... right, and I can't remember the last time I felt that good. When I looked at him again, he changed; his hair got longer, his face thinner.

"How do you feel now?" Roxie asked me.

"Where'd Adymm go?"

"Don't talk," she said, and she changed again; the hair was blonde, and the eyes were blue. "Just relax, he'll be here."

"Sabrina, I... I feel strange."

"Shhh." I felt her hand on my cheek, and even though I could feel slow currents washing me away from the light, I somehow knew everything was okay.

* * *

The sun wasn't friendly anymore. Now, it was harsh and blue, and there were clouds everywhere... but they were behind the sun, and the sun was angry. And there was noise...

I suddenly couldn't shake the feeling that I was alone. I forced my eyes to open, trying to find out what had happened to everyone.

"Hmmnh?"

I was in a bed, covered in about a dozen blankets with all these lukewarm water bottles all around me - one was on my forehead. I tried to move, but all I did was jostle the rubber bag on my head loose; it fell to the floor with a "splat!"... or maybe more of a "splush".

"Hmm? What?"

My head felt very heavy as I made it find the source of the noise; a head of blue, spiky hair raised up to look at me.

"Whss goinon?" I asked sleepily.

"Libby!" Without hesitation, he moved from his chair to my bedside, hugging me gingerly. "Oh, thank God, I'm so glad..."

"Hey, what's-" I coughed. "What's with you?"

"Do you feel okay? Are you warm enough?"

"Sure," I said, trying to sit up... but I couldn't. "I can't move."

"I know," he whispered. "The doctors strapped you down so you wouldn't throw the blankets off or shake the water bottles loose. Guess you already lost one of them."

"Doctors?" It was about then I felt something funny on my chest and left arm. "What... what's stuck all over me?"

"Those are to make sure you're still kicking," he said with a smile. "Heart monitors or whatever."

I know it took me long enough, but as the fog rolled back stuff finally slid into place: doctors, heart monitors, those harsh fluorescent lights... "What happened, what am I doing here?"

The relief in his face gave way to pain as he took my hand and held it to his chest. "Jesus, Libbs, I'm sorry, I didn't want you to go out there, I never should have-"

"Adymm, what's going on?"

He gazed at me for a long moment, then kissed me on the cheek. "You're going to be okay, now. And I'll never let anything happen to you again, ever."

It was sweet, but it wasn't what I needed to hear at that moment. "Please, just tell me what happened."

He took a deep breath. "You were out in the cold too long, Libby. Eventually, your body couldn't produce enough heat to keep up with how much you were losing, and... you ended up with hypothermia."

I could feel my eyes widening; I was completely awake now. Desperately, I strained at my bonds for a moment, trying to sit up, then gave up. "I... I what? But no, I was fine, I was just taking a walk, and it was-"

"That Miles kid, Sabrina's housemate... he was out picking up some kinda satellite dish thing from a friend of his. He found you." Even in my state of shock, I could see the shame in his face as he looked away. "He says you thought he was me."

"No..." But he was right. As the memories slowly came back to me, I could see the figure I thought was Adymm; a streetlamp was behind him, so I couldn't see his face. He also had some very large object hoisted onto his back, but at the time it hadn't seemed important.

"Yeah. Turns out you were only a few houses down from theirs. Good thing, I guess."

"I guess..." My eyes went back to him. "How'd I end up here? Where am I?"

"St Elizabeth's," he whispered. "The ICU. After they got you in, checked you over and everything, they moved you here from the emergency room. You're supposed to be moved to the general ward soon."

I tried to relax, but I couldn't. "I can't believe this, this is too much..."

"I'm so sorry, Libby, I-"

"How could I have been so stupid? I was wearing like, a dishrag and boots in freezing weather! What am I, five?!"

Adymm sighed. "This isn't your fault, you were pissed at me. Neither of us were really thinking straight."

It took everything I had - I was still mad at him for some of the things he'd said - but... "You tried to stop me, though - and you were right, I shouldn't have gone out. I'm sorry."

He tried to smile, but it just didn't really come together. "Hey, do you need anything? Coffee, hot chocolate... tanning booth?"

I laughed, but it came out mostly as another cough. "Hot chocolate, please... the hotter, the better."

He nodded, smiled nervously, and left the room.

Several minutes passed with nothing but the beeps of machines to keep me company. I almost felt myself beginning to drift again when I heard a knock on the doorjamb. "Any popsicles named Libby in here?"

"Sabrina," I said with a grin. "Come in, come in."

"Hey, you!" she cooed bracingly - not quite babytalk, but a hint softer than her normal tone. "Are they keeping you warm enough? They're not, are they? Oh, I'll fix their wagons but good!"

"It's plenty warm; you leave their wagons alone."

"Okay." She scooted the chair up to my bedside, both hands on my left arm; I could feel them trembling. Did she really think I would break if she so much as touched me? "Can you sit up? Or is that not a thing you can do yet? I'm not completely sure how this part works."

"Well, I could, but they buckled me in like luggage on top of a minivan."

"Oh yeah, I see that now." She pulled at the straps for a minute, biting her lip. "Should probably let them do that, I don't wanna mess up your recovery."

"It's fine," I soothed. "I guess I can just lie here a minute." But before I could say anything else, her arms were around me, her face buried in my shoulder.

"Oh Libby, I'm so glad!" She wasn't crying, but she was about two steps away. "Geez, I mean, we tried all we could, and the ambulance showed up pretty quick, and... but I was scared, I didn't know if I was helping at all, I-"

"Hey, hey," I whispered, wishing I had a free arm to pat her on the back. "Take it easy. Now, what are you talking about, not helping?"

After a few seconds, she pulled back, one hand lingering on my shoulder while she wiped away the tears that hadn't quite fallen; I noticed her cheeks were flushed. "Y'know, all the blankets, and the hot plate, and... well, you know." After a few seconds of watching my face remain blank, one of her eyebrows arched slightly. "You don't remember? Not anything?"

Well, I would have shrugged if I could have. "No, not really... it's all kind of a daze. Like, the memories are out of focus or something."

"Weird... and Adymm didn't tell you?"

"No, he didn't. Is there something he was supposed to?"

She looked at me for a very long, somewhat-uncomfortable moment... and I could see something strange in the back of her eyes, something that normally didn't belong. Then, just as I was about to prod her again, there was another knock.

"Miss Chessler?" came a voice I didn't recognise.

"I should scoot," she whispered, smiling bravely and patting my arm. "You just concentrate on warming up and getting outta here."

"But-"

And before I could object further, she was gone, and a distinguished-looking bald man in a labcoat was walking over, holding a clipboard. He told me I had hypothermia (duh) and that it had been compounded by mild exhaustion, that I was going to be oh so fine, and began rattling off facts and figures... after the initial prognosis, I sort of stopped paying attention. My mind was too preoccupied with wondering what had happened between the streets of Westbridge and St. Elizabeth Medical Center. What wasn't anyone telling me?

_END Chapter Eight_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another lengthy chapter. Yep. Whoo. :shifts, drinks tea: So... how's your auntie? Still battling with the rickets? Sorry to hear it. :another sip: Hmm... at least she's not trying to figure out what to say in an Author's Note: I hear that's a pain worse than being flayed alive. :another sip: Mmm, yes.


	9. Closer To Ew

The rest of that morning, my consciousness drifted around. Roxie and Miles came into my room in the general ward, but not long enough for me to really talk to them; I was so out of it, and I didn't know them well enough to carry on very lengthy conversations, anyway. I do distinctly remember thanking Miles for bringing me in from the cold, and he looked quite shy about it; it was cute. Maybe I passed out again after that...

So yes, the doctors had given me a mild sedative; they figured if I got the rest I had needed anyway while I was strapped to a ton of hot water bottles, they could prevent any risk to my body. Lucky for me (as I found out eventually), I had barely dipped into "stage two hypothermia" - that is, I basically turned a tad blue and went a tad crazy. If I had been out there in the frigid wind for as little as another thirty minutes, or if Sabrina and her friends hadn't known what to do, I might have hit stage three... and done lasting damage to my organs, or even my brain. As glad as I was that I'd make a full recovery in no time flat, that's about the scariest thing to be told - that I actually might have killed myself.

Sometime around noon, I woke up blearily to a room full of Absinthians; yep, they were all there. T.Q. acted all nervous the whole time, Milnot stuck a fresh flower in the vase on my bedside table... Greg just told me to stop being a "layabout". Adymm seemed to be kind of on edge, like he didn't want to upset me or I might slip back into hypothermia all of the sudden. Again, sweet, but a scoche off the mark, there.

Soon after they filed out, the doctor came in to unbuckle me and let me use the facilities (I know you don't want to hear about that part, but this is my story, dammit). Then they ran a battery of tests, forced a hot lunch down my throat, and I spent maybe an hour half-watching reruns of crappy old sitcoms before Adymm came back in.

"How was the omelet?"

"Dry," I said distractedly. "And bland."

"Mmm." He sank into the chair by my bed. "Uh... you think they'll ever get off the island?"

"Not while Gilligan is still alive," I sighed, turning off the TV and looking over at him. "Hi."

"Hey." As you might expect, a tense silence followed; eventually he spoke up again. "So, the guys and I were talking, and we figure you and I could catch a plane back to LaGuardia with the profits from last night. That way, they can take the van back now so Milnot won't disappoint his poor, sick mother."

I had to smile. "His poor, sick mother could bench press both of us - with one hand, even."

"Yeah," he laughed.

"But that's fine." I almost let it drop there, but my convictions wouldn't let me; damn my independent mother for teaching me to listen to those! "Actually, Adymm... maybe you should go with them."

His head jerked up. "What?"

Deep breath. "I've been thinking, and- and we said a lot of things. Mean things, things a boyfriend and girlfriend shouldn't say to each other. Maybe we should... spend some time apart."

He turned around to face me properly, eyes already starting to mist over. "Libby, are you... are you breaki-"

"No!" I blurted quickly. "God, no! What I mean is, well, it might be good for us if we spend a few days apart. DAYS. Time to cool down, sort some things out."

"I don't need to sort things out! Libbs, I know I was dead wrong about everything; call it insecurity or whatever, but I was just being a freak."

"No, you weren't; you were being honest." I fidgeted with the quilt on my bed as I took another deep breath. "But, as much as I'm not hopping mad about it anymore... I'm not ready to forgive you for some of the things you said, not yet. Some of that stung a little too much."

"But-"

"Are you ready to forgive me yet?"

He just stared at me for a few seconds before his gaze dropped.

"Don't overreact," I continued pleadingly. "It's only a few days, okay? My chilled brain needs time to process, and I think deep down, you need it, too. Then I'll hop the first flight to Manhattan I can wrangle once they spring me. Besides, we'll save at least 100 this way."

The clock on the wall seemed to be uncommonly loud. Finally, he nodded quietly. "Yeah. I mean, if you need time, you got it. Just make sure you come back."

I smiled weakly. "I promise."

He leaned over and hugged me, pecking me on the cheek. "I'll miss you at Christmas."

"Me too," I whispered. Then, with one last wave at the door, he and the band were on their way back to our city... and I was alone in a hospital bed, crying like a child.

* * *

"Ready?"

I glanced up to see Sabrina waiting in the doorway for me. "Oh, hey. I'm just getting my stuff together." In case you were wondering how it all got there, Greg brought it up on their way out of town; according to him, Adymm was too "bollocked" to reenact the goodbye scene, and to be blunt, so was I. Whatever "bollocked" means.

"Our ride's out front," she said quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. What was her deal? "Aunt Hilda's a horrible driver, but we  _should_ make it home safely."

"Cool, cool." After a few seconds of shifting uncomfortably, I went on. "Listen, I-"

"We shouldn't keep her waiting," she said brightly. "But are you sure you're ready to fly this coop?"

"Positive. Honestly, one day in solitary is too many, and if they tried to poke and prod me one more time I might have to demand an engagement ring first." When she didn't look convinced, I walked over and put a my hands on her shoulders. "Don't worry, I'm fine now. They even said my level of tissue damage was amazingly minor; my hands might be itchy for a couple days, if at all. I even have two sweaters on. Seriously, everything's rosy."

The trepidation slowly drained from her features. "Just don't ever do that again, okay?"

"Okay." I could tell she was only half-joking, but I was dead serious. "And I'm sorry I got everybody all worked up, I didn't mean-"

"I know." She slung her arm over my back as we vacated that depressing room. "Adymm told me you guys blew up at each other and you went out to clear your noggin."

"God, I wish I'd just taken the time to put on a turtleneck or something."

"Ehh, you were in a tizzy. Or was it a huff?"

"A huff, I think."

She laughed. "Well, anyway, I hope you guys patched it up."

"Well..."

And we both stopped walking; sensing a not-so-pleasant confession, she sat both of us down in a couple of nearby waiting room chairs. There, I told her about the last conversation I had with Adymm before I sent him away.

"Are you sure that's the right thing to do?" she said softly at the end of it. "I mean, maybe you could've used the few days to work through it together."

"NOW you tell me," I muttered. "No, I don't know, I... maybe I made a mistake, I can't tell. I just knew it was hard to think straight with him sitting there, looking so..."

"So gorgeous?" she finished for me with a small smirk.

"Shut up," I said, failing to keep the colour from rising in my cheeks.

"Hey, look how red your face is!" She poked one cheek. "Looks like you did make a full recovery after all!"

"Shut up, freak!"

And with that, I got up and tried to run away from her, but there was no ditching Sabrina Spellman when she was on a mission - especially one of "good-natured" teasing and torment.

* * *

Without a motel room to fall back on, Sabrina's Aunt Hilda graciously offered to let me stay at her house, but I didn't want to cramp their style; besides, there wasn't really any room, what with the avalanche of extended family coming over. That led to...

"Then why don't you spend Christmas at our place?" Sabrina chimed in. "Miles, Morgan and Roxie are going out of town to be with their folks, so there'll be plenty of space... and maybe we'll make some Christmas teevee dinners?"

"Oh, no you don't," Hilda reprimanded. "Both of you are coming over for Christmas dinner, at least."

"Um, Aunt Hilda, I don't think that's such a good idea with all the... relatives?" she said pointedly.

"Oh. OH!" Suddenly she looked quite worried - were they  _that_ bad? "That's right, Cousin Blitzen always gets into the legnog, and... well, there's no reason you should have to suffer through our family dinner when you're not obligated to."

"Did she just say 'legnog'?" I whispered.

"Slip of the tounge," Sabrina hissed nervously before clearing her throat to address the Vista Cruiser at large. "So it's settled; we'll pick up some Lean Cuisine turkeys and a can of cranberry sauce, decorate a plastic tree, watch 'It's A Wonderful Life' a couple dozen times... it'll be fun!"

"Sounds great," I said honestly. It really did, actually.

"And you're welcome to stay as long as you want; you'd have to crash on the sofa when the roomies start coming home, though."

"That's probably a non-issue. I mean, they'll be gone for a few days, right?"

She clapped her hands excitedly. "Ooh, this is gonna be a total blast!"

Inexplicably, as much as I was looking forward to it, that had the ring of a death knell.

_END Chapter Nine_


	10. To Ski Or Not To Ski

"'Happy Holidays from the York family'."

Roxie glanced over Sabrina's shoulder at the Christmas card she was reading from. "More like the 'Dork' family," she muttered, sitting down across from me with her no-longer-frozen entrée. "What is it about Christmas that makes people want to wear matching outfits?"

"Oh, the Yorks dress alike for every holiday. Last St. Patrick's Day, they were all leprechauns. Cute on the baby... disturbing on everyone else."

Both Roxie and I snorted.

"Speaking of disturbing," Morgan said from the kitchen as she poured herself a cup of tea, "Josh can't come home with me for Christmas. His family is dragging him to Aruba to stay at some five-star resort on the beach. Poor thing... he'll be pining for me all week."

As the three of us were exchanging a look behind Morgan's back, Miles emerged from his Fortress of Solitude, bulging duffel in tow. "Well, time for another joyous, uplifting Chanukkah with my family. Ooh, I almost forgot my antacid."

"Y'know," Sabrina piped up, "I've never been to a Chanukkah celebration. What does your family do?"

"We light candles, spin the dreidel, and then twelve people attack a helpless brisket. Better take the Imodium A-D." He dove past Morgan into the kitchen cabinets again.

"Sounds rough," I said bracingly. "Bring us back some Kosher wine?"

He laughed bitterly as he stuffed the bottles into his duffel. "If there's any left. Well, I'm off to my parents' - unless I'm abducted by aliens on the way, God willing." And he was out the door.

I cleared my throat. "So Roxie, what are your holiday plans?"

"The usual," she shrugged, stuffing a fork full of... whatever into her mouth. I was afraid to ask. "We put up an aluminium tree, get take-out from Taco Bell and then I watch my dad and stepmom exchange cartons of Winston Lights."

"Your family exchanges cigarettes?" Morgan scoffed in disbelief.

Roxie stood up with her tray. "Hey, it's just not Christmas without a visit from jolly old Saint Nicotine." With those sardonic parting words, she retired to her chambers.

"I guess I should feel thankful," Morgan breathed as she plopped down in the now-empty chair. "Next to these guys, Christmas with my family seems so... normal."

"ANY Christmas compared to last year's will seem normal to me," I sighed, stretching. "They deck the halls for you at Swords Academy... and the only present I got was lukewarm figgy pudding for desert, which is even worse than it sounds."

Sabrina's eyes glazed over. "Yeah... just once I'd like to have the perfect white Christmas in the country; ski-chalet in Vermont, sleigh rides, roasted goose, cutting down your own tree..."

"Throw in some homemade pfeffernüesse and you've just described Christmas with my family," Morgan said with a wry smile.

"Wow!" She shook her little blonde head. "Nothing says Christmas like goose and pfeffernüesse."

"I miss ski weekends," I breathed with a wistful grin.

Morgan nodded, sifting through her mail for a minute, then perked up. "Hey! Sabrina, why don't you come with me? Oh, it would be so great to have some company along!"

"Oh, I'd love to, but... I kinda promised Libby we'd have Christmas together, and it might seem a touch rude to ditch her when she's sleeping in my house."

"Just a smidge," I laughed.

Morgan nodded thoughtfully. "That's right... well, she's invited, too! We've got plenty of room at the cabin, I'm sure - I'll just call and ask the parents!"

"Great!" we crowed at the same time; Morgan grinned, then flounced up the stairs.

"Oh, if this only works," I said through clenched teeth.

"I know! Can you imagine shooshing down the slopes, roasting chestnuts on an open fire while sipping mulled cider? God Almighty, I've always wanted that picture-perfect Christmas."

"Yeah, it's great..." When her jaw dropped indignantly, I hastily amended, "Not that I've ever had a Christmas EXACTLY like that, but I've experienced all those things seperately, at least?"

"Well yeah, I mean, I've been skiing before, too, but... you know what I mean."

"No, I totally get it." And we sighed in unison.

Just then, Morgan came stomping heavily back downstairs; her frustrated frown spoke volumes before it even opened. "Bad news, would-be skiers..."

"What, what?!" we said (enough with the unison!).

"Well, Mom said it sounded nice, but Dad put his foot down. He says he doesn't want a bunch of strangers hanging around the cottage - he's such a big, paranoid jerk. Sorry, guys."

"This is so unfair," I whined (...gracefully?). Okay, so I whine sometimes, but let the record show that that's usually Sabrina's job.

"I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind," Sabrina said determinedly, standing up.

"And who are you to be demanding things of other people's parents again?" I pointed out.

"Oh... you're right, who am I kidding?" She dropped back into the chair with a  _THUD!,_  burying her face in her arms. "This sucks."

"Morgan, I despise your father," I put in.

A hollow laugh. "Join the club. Well, I guess I better start packing... no hard feelings?"

"It's not your fault Christmas is ruined," came Sabrina's muffled reply.

"Maybe I can bring back some famous Cavanaugh eggnog for ya!" she called as she swept off to her room once again.

"Whoopty-doo."

* * *

Several hours later found the four of us crowded onto the couch, watching an antique VHS of "Home Alone" and trying not to feel depressed. And why shouldn't we be? Sabrina and I had lost the chance for a Rockwellian Christmas (we couldn't remotely afford to pull it off ourselves), Morgan wouldn't be bringing either Josh or her friends along, and Roxie... well, she was dealing with the whole tobacco stocking-stuffer thing.

Sometime right after our hopes had been shattered, Sabrina's Aunt Zelda called to ask her if she was sure she wasn't going to stop by for Christmas Dinner. Obviously, she had to tell her poor auntie the same thing she'd told the other one, and after several more minutes it finally took. They're so annoyingly adorable, aren't they?

Meanwhile, I felt a little guilty because... well, even though I was bummed about the ski trip, I was secretly enjoying this. So maybe we didn't have Jack Frost nipping at our noses, getting up early for a milk run on fresh powder, but I had had enough frost nipping at me to last several years. Besides, I didn't need some big exciting vacation; I actually got to spend some leisure time with my best friend, and that was plenty okay by me.

Too bad my opinion wasn't widely shared...

"Jesus, this movie is so bad," Morgan grumbled, throwing popcorn at the set. "The kid rigs up a blowtorch? I don't care if they  _are_ burglars - what a twisted, horrible child!"

"I say they had it coming." Roxie dislodged herself from between Sabrina and Morgan, opting to flip over the back of the couch rather than disturb our delicate spread of sinfully-indulgent snack items. "Anybody want anything while I'm up?"

"Nah," Sabrina muttered. "I'm still nursing my Swiss Miss."

"Do we have any more blankets?" I asked. "It's chilly in here..."

"Definitely," Roxie said with a small smile. "You, my friend, get all the blankets you want."

Sabrina took her eyes off Macaulay for a moment to glance over at me. "Hey, are you sure you've bounced back to full health? Maybe we should call-"

"Will you shut up already?" I hissed, trying not to smile. "You're gonna make me miss the touching part."

"This movie's one big 'touching part' interspersed with mindless carnage," Morgan groaned. "Can't we flip over to 'Prancer'?"

"I could do 'Prancer'," Sabrina said half-heartedly.

" _No!_ " Roxie called from the bathroom. "That movie is a complete toothache-inducing sap-fest and I refuse to be party to it!"

Needless to say, without a unanimous alternative, we ended up watching "Home Alone" through to the end... and it never got any better. Not that it mattered - we enjoyed making fun of it, talking over it, and simply having a girls' night... something I usually didn't get, what with my circle of friends being a total sausagefest.

It took one night and a bad movie to wake me up to how castrated I felt down in N.Y.C. - or tubal-ligated? That is, I felt emasculated in a feminine way. And writing this paragraph has made me realise the lack of adjectives describing a loss of femininity. Either way, what I'm trying to say here is that the whole thing re-connected me with what it felt like to just be a girl, and let me tell you... I missed it.

_END Chapter Ten_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dialogue from the first bit of this chapter is (mostly) stolen from the show; sorry, but it worked out too well to toss it out. And by the way, I know this is my worst chapter title ever, thanks.


	11. Chesslers Roasting On An Open Fire

Nothing looked familiar. Why was everything dark and dreary? And... and what was that awful, awful smell?

Oh, that's right.

The next morning, I awoke to find myself in Miles's room; it was the easiest place to stick me, since the other beds were still occupied. Maybe it was weird, but between an actual bed and the couch, I took the bed. At least there weren't any weird man-products in plain sight - I might have died if I found jock itch powder or something. Trust me, the stuff that WAS in plain sight was weird enough.

As I clawed my way out of his inner sanctum for (I hope) the first, last and only time, the brightness of the rest of his house assaulted me... and about that same time-

"Happy Christmas Eve Day, temporary roomie!" Morgan said cheerfully.

"Coffee," I mumbled.

"Fresh pot brewing now!" she piped as she skipped off toward the stairs. "Time to finish packing!"

"Mmm."

By the time I was stirring an inordinate amount of sugar into my mug, a berobed Sabrina padded into the kitchen, a towel around her head. "Oh, good morning, Libby! Didn't expect you to be up so early."

I took a sip, made a face, and added more coffee to dilute the sugar. "Why not? You are."

"Point taken. Should I whip us up a batch of my famous breakfast cereal? We have a brand new box of Sugar Bombs."

Just as I was making a face, Roxie wandered out of her room, eyes gummed shut. "You guys sure make an unholy racket. Have you no respect for those of us trying to sleep in?"

One of Sabrina's eyebrows went up. "Excuse us, princess."

"Wait a minute," I said as she poured herself a glass of orange juice. "Shouldn't you be off packing up your coffin or whatever?"

"Huh?" I didn't have the heart to tell her she had an orange moustache now. "Oh, right, I guess I should get started on that..."

As we watched her go back to her room, Sabrina leaned over and whispered, "Methinks something is afoot with Miss King."

"Methinks you shouldn't say 'methinks'," I hissed back. "But what do you mean?"

Sabrina thought as she got a bowl down from the cabinet. "Well... I dunno, but it seems to me that she'd already be up before now if she were really going, right? She told us she was leaving yesterday, after all."

"I think that might have been my fault."

Eyes rolling, she walked over and put her hand on my elbow. "Stop doing that to yourself, okay? It was a big stinky accident, nobody's to blame. And if you don't quit it, I'm just going to have to go catch hypothermia myself so we'll be even."

I couldn't help laughing. "Fine, fine. I'll try, okay?"

She scrunched up her face. "Do, or do not - there is no try."

Before I could ask what the hell she was talking about, a series of loud thumps came from the stairs. We turned the corner to investigate and almost had to dive out of the way of Morgan and her huge suitcases.

"OH! Sorry about that!" she yelled as one fell down and popped open at my feet. I used one said foot to try and close it again as she dumped the rest in Sabrina's arms to help me. "Man, it was hard enough closing this one the first time!"

"I see you and half the mall will be enjoying this vacation?" Sabrina's muffled voice asked.

"Hey, a girl's gotta have her essentials," she grunted as she picked the suitcase up again.

* * *

After I threw on some of the few less-tacky clothes Morgan left behind (due to only packing like, three outfits, I was definitely running out of wardrobe by now), Sabrina and I spent the next couple hours moseying around the Piggly Wiggly, trying to find Christmassy eats that were both easy to fix and cheap. We came up with corn dogs made with turkey meat, a box of Stove Top and a carton of "Holiday Nog", which is basically a less eggy version of the original. It was a pretty sorry assortment, but I challenge you to do any better at the last minute like that.

We received quite a shocker when we got back to the college house, though - Sabrina's aunts were sitting around the living room with Roxie.

"Oh, there you are!" Zelda said, walking over to hug us. "We were wondering how long you'd be!"

"Hey, you guys!" Sabrina wheezed through Aunt Zelda's deathgrip. "What are you doing here - shouldn't you be squirreling all the relatives away in their cubbyholes?"

"That's pretty much why we're here," Hilda put in. "You wanna tell 'em, Zelly?"

"Of course." She finally let go and stepped back to address us at large. "But I think we should invite Roxie, too."

"Oh no," Sabrina half-groaned. "Look, I told you guys-"

"Now now, hear us out. You see, my sister popped over here earlier to procure that casserole dish she lent you, and she found poor Roxie here, all alone on Christmas Eve!"

"Like I said, it's really not a big deal," Roxie mumbled futilely.

Sabrina rolled her eyes. "You don't have to go all Christian Children's Fund on her; she's schlepping home for Christmas, right Roxie?"

All eyes were on her, but hers were on the faux-oriental rug.

"Roxie!"

"Well, I didn't want to bother you guys with my baggage. Sure, I was gonna go, but my dad breaking out the Rudolph ashtray just isn't as festive as it used to be, and... dammit, I can't stand doing it again this year." She glanced up at us again. "Sorry for lying."

"Hey, my parents suck at Christmas, too," I put in. "Totally justifiable."

"Anyway," Hilda interrupted, "since all three of you kids have noplace in particular to be, we made an executive descision."

"That's right," Zelda continued. "We called up the rest of the unruly Spellman clan and told them the celebration had been moved to Aunt Ruby's this year. Now that there will be no inebriated uncles, we insist you join us for Christmas dinner!"

For a few seconds, we all just kinda looked at each other. Then, I turned to Sabrina and whispered, "What do you think? Sounds fine to me."

"But we just bought all those corn dogs," she replied with a smirk. Then she laughed and turned to her Aunties. "Consider us R.S.V.P.'d. Roxie?"

She sighed. "Oh, why not? Can't be worse than watching both versions of 'Miracle On 34th' again."

Before we knew what was happening, Roxie and I were swept up into one of those smarmy Spellman family group hugs; I think Hilda's nose actually ended up in my ear.

* * *

Somehow, we were cajoled into pushing the two beds in Sabrina's old room together to make one huge bed on which all three of us would sleep; something about it being "precious", or sugarplums or whatever. Sabrina and Roxie made a stink - especially Sabrina, who seemed to be feeling uptight about being "babied" - but I was cool with it. What? Hey, let's see how picky you are after having passed out on a Greyhound! Besides, between that and making one of us sleep alone on the couch downstairs, I'd rather be a sardine; guess I'm just friendly that way.

Christmas Eve dinner wasn't particularly fancy; Chinese takeout. I know, twice in the same weekend! Evidently, the real spread would be laid out the following afternoon, so this lackluster presentation of chow mein was probably purposeful - y'know, to make the main event look twice as good by comparison. My fortune cookie said, "An unexpected change will happen for you very soon." Golly, what else is new? Gimme a break...

Sometime around ten, as we were watching yet another holiday special - it might have been the Peanuts one - the matriarchs wandered in, each holding a tray heaped to the brim with all sorts of treats imaginable. As they set them down, Zelda said, "Kids, here are your trays of traditional Christmas goodies!"

"Thanks," I said, looking the spread over.

Roxie took a quick whiff of the other tray. "They smell great!"

Hilda grinned. "Fabulous recipe. Got it out of Mortal Christmas For Dummies."

My eyebrows knitted as I picked up a glass of eggnog. "Did you say 'Mortal' Christmas?"

The deer in the headlights look was unmistakeable, but her smile never waivered. "...uh, more 'til Christmas and even more 'til New Year's!"

Both aunts laughed heartily; Sabrina's hand went to her forehead.

"You'd better take your trays upstairs," Zelda hissed. "You don't want to be awake when Santa arrives!"

And Sabrina slapped herself again.

"Wouldn't wanna do that," Roxie said with a wink. "You guys are so cute!"

As Roxie and I set the trays down on Sabrina's old desk, she closed the door behind her. "Geez, I can't believe how humiliating they're being today! I'm sorry..."

"Don't sweat it," Roxie said around a candy cane. "They're only trying to be nice."

"Exactly," I continued. "Overbearingly so, maybe, but this seems to mean a lot to them... and it does to me, too. Both them and you, freak."

Sabrina half-laughed, half-sighed (evidently people can do that?) as she kicked her shoes into the closet. "Okay, then I'm just glad you guys are so tolerant."

"You're forgetting that my mother dumped me on the boarding school steps before skipping the country; I can handle being force-fed fruitcake." I eyed a piece suspiciously. "Well, I can handle it once, anyway."

"Not to mention that they're non-smokers," Roxie added. "A big plus in my book, Spellman."

Her smile of relief and joy almost could've melted the snow.

_END Chapter Eleven_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, one or two lines taken from the show, though that's in the literal sense this time. Can you spot them? :P


	12. It Came Upon A Midnight Queer

"Psst!"

Why on earth was I living near some hefty deforestation? Not only that, but someone left the water running. Or could that be a gas leak?

"Hey, Libby! Psst! Are you awake?"

I needed a crowbar to open my eyes, but I finally managed without one. "Hmmngh?"

Roxie was standing over me, her clothes back on. "Get up and get dressed real quick; we're going for a walk."

"Why?"

"It's important - just get up, okay?"

After a moment's hesitation (in which I contemplated some pretty cruel retorts), I gave up my warm spot on the bed and crawled into my corduroys. As I struggled to pull a boot on, it finally hit me why I thought I was hearing logs being sawed - Sabrina was our lumberjack.

"I almost forgot how horridly she snored," I whispered with a smile.

"What?"

"Nevermind." As I was pulling on my new Winter coat (we made a detour on the way to the Piggly Wiggly, since obviously that sleeveless leather monstrosity almost did me in), I saw Roxie opening the window. "What are you doing?!"

"Shh!" She crept over to me as Sabrina snorted loudly before rolling over. "We're sneaking out to pick up some emergency presents."

"What the hell are you talking about? It's freezing, and I'm tired, and-"

"We owe these guys," she hissed as she glared at me. "I don't know about you, but I'm not just gonna take their charity without giving a little something back."

I waffled. "But... the bed is so warm, and I almost died last time I was out there, and-"

"And last time, you were wearing less than Helen Mirren in... well, every movie she's ever made. C'mon, hurry up!"

Needless to say, several minutes later found us shivering as we made our way down Sabrina's block.

"Do you even know where we're going?" I growled.

"No," she admitted. "But I think I remember us passing a strip mall on the way here..."

"Oh, that's wonderful. I thank you for including me in your ill-conceived plan of frostbite and boredom."

"Shut your cake hole," she spat. "We need to get them something."

I sighed, watching the air freeze; it seemed like just yesterday I was watching T.Q. do that very thing in Chicago, but that was almost a month ago, now. "Yeah, I know. It's just too bad we didn't have time to really hit the mall or something."

"Yes, because the mall on Christmas Eve is a  _much_ better idea."

"...Touché."

* * *

To make what's already an unnecessarily long story refreshingly shorter, the best we could do was a Seven-Eleven. Roxie bought a dozen lottery tickets and a bottle of Gatorade - I picked out beef jerky, a Whatchamacallit bar, and some audio cassette entitled, "Truckin' Through The Ages". Half-joking, I asked Roxie if we should get a carton of menthols; she didn't appreciate it as much as I thought she would.

All in all, our little excursion was as successful as we could hope for - and pretty enjoyable. In fact, it was all fun and games until we were almost back to the house, when our conversation took a most serious turn...

"So nobody ever caught her?"

"Nope," Roxie said with a shake of her head. "And she didn't even bother to hide it - just walked right out, cameras and witnesses everywhere."

"Wow, your mom's a beast!"

"Yeah, she's a beast, alright..."

When I saw that her head drooped a little, I drifted sideways and bumped into her. She glanced up, smiled wickedly and bumped me back, almost sending me into a telephone pole.

"Hey, watch it, freak!"

"Sorry," she laughed. "But anyway, I don't wanna think about any of my three deadbeat parents right now; this is shaping up to be a halfway-decent Christmas."

"Same for me; way better than last year."

"Why, what happened last year?"

Too much to tell; I had to condense this in a Readers Digest fashion. "Let's just say being trapped in a private academy with no family and only one acquaintence is pretty much the most depressing way to spend a Nöel."

"Gotcha. So you'd really rather sleep next to Sabrina and her snoring?"

We both shared a giggle before I could answer. "It's not like it's the first time."

"Hmm, I guess that's true," she said with a nod. "You guys are making a real habit of that, huh?'

"Y-" See, I was about to say "yeah", of course, but... "Wait a minute, how did you know about that?"

She glanced over at me. "What?"

"How did you know about last time? I mean, God, that was almost two years ago. Maybe you've been roomies for a while, but did Sabrina really tell you that of all stories?"

She stopped in her tracks, face half-lit by a nearby streetlamp. "Libby... what are you talking about? Two years- I'm talking about two  _days_ ago!"

My eyes widened; suddenly everything felt very wrong. "What?!"

"Wait, wait," she followed up, dropping her paper back involuntarily, "you guys slept together before? Then you- oh my God..."

"No, no, it was- she just-" I shook my head, trying to clear all the conversational clutter. "God, nevermind that, who cares about that?!"

"I do!" She ran her hands through her hair, the air around her head clouding as her breath came faster and faster. "Jesus, I can't believe Sabrina never bothered to tell me she's, she's... I mean, we're roommates! I-" Her eyes bulged. "I've undressed in front of her. Christ, she was probably checking me out, and now-"

"Roxie, focus!" I shouted, grabbing her by the upper arms and shaking her like a Bond martini. "Nothing happened two years ago - she passed out in my room, sleepover-style! Now, what do you know that I don't?!"

She squinted at me, still trying to unlearn what she thought she had just learned. "So... so you two were never-"

By now my teeth were clenching, and only half to keep them from chattering. "Dammit, will you just tell me what happened!?"

Finally, she had cleared the mental hurdle and was suddenly very receptive to my question. "What do you mean, 'tell you'? Don't you remember?"

I sighed, letting her go to pull my woolen toque down over my eyes for a moment. "No, I don't - everything from the time Miles found me 'til I woke up in the hospital is either a blur, or... or totally blank. Sabrina's been acting weird, and... and I am tired of being played around with!" Once more, I placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. "Roxie, are you trying to tell me Sabrina did something to me?"

Her features looked kind of pained. "Well... yeah. Man, I can't believe nobody told you, that's-" Suddenly it kind of hit home for her. "Oh God, Libby, I'm sorry! You've been kept in the dark about this the whole time? Damn, I'm so sorry, if I knew you didn't know, I would have-"

"It's okay," I dismissed quickly, maniacally. "Just... more details, what else?"

"Well," she continued uncomfortably, "when Miles barged in carrying you, Sabrina and I were in our room studying for... oh, whatever, for something, but then we heard the noise and ran into the living room. When we saw you all frozen up, we panicked - we both kinda ran around like dumbasses until Sabrina's head got back on her shoulders." A bark of nervous laughter. "You should've seen that girl give orders! Miles put you in her bed while I started dialing 911, and then he and I started boiling water and getting extra blankets and stuff while she tried to... well, warm you up."

My stomach started turning again. "Warm me up... how?"

Evidently, Roxie shared my nerves. "It... well, y'know, all the best nature shows and health class and everything always says the best way to revive a hypothermia victim is with... body heat, through skin-on-skin contact, and..."

The turning stopped when it plummeted. "So..."

"The doctors said she probably saved you from any serious side effects," she ploughed ahead with unconvincing cheerfulness. "Miles wanted to pour the boiling water right on you, but she said that'd be worse than-"

"Do you mean to say," I slowly continued, "that... Sabrina and I were- were-"

"In the raw and rubbing?" she finished softly. "Afraid so. In the course of saving your life - and try not to forget that part! - you guys kinda sorta... slept together."

_END Chapter Twelve_


	13. Freakin' Around The Christmas Tree

Okay, class, show of hands; how many of you saw that one coming? Yeah, well, as I've said before... forest for the trees and all that. Guess I should have known, though.

Unwarranted, all those old, superficial feelings came back - that she was a freak, and too persistent, and always doing too much or going too far. It was all so weird! God knows I love the girl, but this was WAY overboard. What was it supposed to mean?  _Did_ it mean anything? Intelligently, I knew she had saved my life and I was grateful, and maybe this would have been less of a deal if somebody bothered to tell me back when it happened, but now... now it struck me as inexcusably strange. I felt dirty, like something had been robbed from my body by fate and I could never get it back. Something like my virginity.

We were mostly quiet the rest of the way back from Seven-Eleven; Roxie tried to talk to me once or twice, but when I didn't respond she stayed quiet, opting to pat me on the shoulder instead. Eventually, we got back to the house, stashed our "presents", and went to sleep. Sort of.

As I lay awake in that house, glancing over at Sabrina's snoring face (it looked weird all squished against the pillow like that), now all I could think about was her fondling me, trying to keep me warm. That's when it hit me; in that psychedelic dream I had, when I felt all warm and Sabrina was there... that must have been when she was doing it. Hypothermia-induced trance or not, how could I forget something like that?! I wouldn't again, I assure you.

I rolled over to stare at the wall, but that didn't help; instead of sugarplums, I saw visions of her stripping off all my clothes and hers, groping all over me, trying to save my life with the power of- just thinking of the word "friction" sent a fresh chill down my spine. She was my friend, you say? Okay, I know true blue buddies are supposed to be able to do stuff like this for each other, but -  _EW!_ No offense to all you lesbos out there, but for me personally, it brought on the gag reflex.

Well, okay now, let's take a step back. It definitely would have been different if I were awake for the whole ordeal; knowing she was going to smoosh against me and knowing why, I could have more easily made my peace with it and braced for impact. But it was more than a little late to board that boat at the docks, and now I was desperately swimming after it.

Or maybe it was more like a ghost; a ghost that would haunt me for a long, long time.

* * *

The next morning broke with fresh sunlight streaming through the window. I stretched, I yawned, I felt great. When I rolled over and saw Sabrina brushing out her hair, I watched her happily for a few blissful moments... before the weight of last night's revelation came crashing back down on me.

"Merry Christmas, sunshine," Sabrina bubbled. "Roxie's holed up in the bathroom."

"Mmmh." I peeled myself out of the bed, Morgan's flashy jammies causing my eyes pain as I struggled to stay upright. Meanwhile, Sabrina flopped down on the bed next to me.

"Ready for some hardcore gift-exchanging?"

Almost instinctively, I jumped up from the bed; she was too close. "Uh, sure - right after I follow Roxie into the bathroom. That is, I mean, I have to go."

I glanced over nervously to see her looking at me with no small amount of concern. "Are you alright, Libby?" Then she smiled knowingly. "Did you have one of those horrible Christmas-themed nightmares or something?"

"Uhh... yeah," I lied quickly - oh, like I could tell her what kind of dreams I  _really_ had. "Fruitcake was chasing me, and... and it just wasn't pretty. I'll be fine eventually, I'm sure."

"Well, if you say so," she sighed, getting up and moving toward the door. "But if you start crying when we get to dessert, I'm referring you to my shrink from last summer."

"Deal." For good measure, I flashed her a cheesy grin that she returned with equal enthusiasm before floating out and down the stairs.

"Oh, you're finally up," Roxie said with a yawn as she walked in. "Logging in some make-up beauty sleep?"

"Not exactly," I breathed in frustration at my own actions - especially the way I couldn't stop rubbing that arm again. "Roxie, this is way weirder than it should be. I don't think I can do this."

She looked at me funny for a second, then rolled her eyes. "Oh, still hung up on that, huh? C'mon, you shouldn't be making such a big deal out of-"

"Don't tell me what to feel," I snapped. When her eyebrows went up and her arms folded, I sighed, sinking down in her desk chair. "Sorry, Rox... I know, it shouldn't be a big thing, I shouldn't still be freaked like this, but... I dunno. It's too crazy, y'know?"

After contemplating my apology for a few more seconds, she nodded and walked over to put her hand on my head. "I guess I can see that. Just... try not to take it out on her, okay? It's Christmas, and she did save your life."

"Mm-hmm."

"I'll tell everybody you're in the bathroom, but don't be too long." Out she went.

To my surprise, I only needed a few minutes in front of the mirror brushing my teeth to cleanse my mind and let it all go. Of course, I was really just internalising it for further contemplation at a later date, but for now I could stow it in the "X-File" and pretend everything was peachy. Hey, it's what I did all through high school, right? I'm a professional.

Not only that, but when I came downstairs everybody burst into an unpleasant song that only put last night's conversation even further from my mind.

"Joy to the world, Libby woke up! Let her see Roxie King!"

"Nooo," I groaned, trying not to smile like an idiot - and to make it worse, they kept going.

"Let Cheerless's heart prepare some room for eggnog and Sabrin', for eggnog and-"

"Enough!" I shouted, my laughter taking all the force out of the demand. "Please, before ears start bleeding!"

Laughing, Sabrina's aunts said, "Merry Christmas, Libby!" in unison.

"Yeah, Joyous Kwanzaa and stuff," Roxie snickered.

"Merry Christmas, you guys," I said, beaming warmly. As I was admiring the huge mound of presents under the tree, Sabrina came in from the other room with two steaming mugs.

"Wassail?" she said, offering me one (which I took). "It's hot, at least; just a jug of cold apple cider nuked in the microwave for about a minute. But we do have the cinnamon sticks!"

"Smells divine," I said to allay her nerves. See? Told you I'm a pro. "Thanks, Safreakna."

She grinned, bouncing over to the tree. "So, who opens what when?!"

It was almost an hour before we'd unwrapped all our presents; among many,  _many_ other things, Sabrina got a new laptop, a beautiful monogrammed silk blouse, and a novelty mug that said "World's Niftiest Niece". Roxie got a reindeer-antler hat (which the four of us had to force her into) and some CD called "Dirges and Funeral Marches of the Middle Ages", which was evidently a good thing in her mind. Meanwhile, I got a Gucci handbag (!), a necklace from Sabrina - the pendant was a sterling silver recreation of Billy Corgan's guitar pick, oh my  _GOD_ was it gorgeous - and an abundance of really warm-looking clothes. Should've seen that coming.

Yes, we did give them their presents... which went over as well as we could expect, what with them sucking. Aunt Zelda said she loved Gatorade, Sabrina has always had a fondness for crispy chocolate bars as it turns out, and one of Hilda's lotto tickets was a winner, so I guess we did okay. Nobody wanted to touch the trucking tape, though.

The only downside to this happy holiday was that we were bundled up and dragged around the block for some midday caroling. Make no mistake, I can sing Christmas carols like nobody's business, but... well, it's an odd tradition, I think. Stumbling around wintry streets, yelling timeless lyrics at people's houses - who comes up with this stuff? We did make some interesting tips in the form of cookies and cash - cookies more often. Only one house had children who ambushed us with snowballs.

After a couple more hours spent watching some parade on TV and talking about anything and everything, the aunties called us into the dining room, where we were assaulted with the most amazing selection of every tasty thing imaginable. Seriously, I'd almost go as far as to call it awe-inspiring; there was turkey, and goose, and cranberries, and stuffing, and candied yams, and- well, that barely scratches the surface, and I'm not even going into desserts! Even that mangy cat was served a heaping helping of pretty much everything, as they had plenty to spare. Those Spellmans really do pull out all the stops!

Sometime during my second slice of pumpkin pie, suddenly Sabrina stood up and struck her wine glass (filled with water, mind you) with a spoon. "May I have your attention, please?"

"No," Roxie said around a mouthful of bread pudding.

"Too bad." She put her spoon down as she cleared her throat. "Okay, so, maybe I'm gonna sound like a Spielberg flick or something, but I wanted to formally announce that you guys - all you guys - have pretty much made this my best Christmas ever. I'm not just saying that, either; the last few years it's been kind of a mess around this season for one reason or another, and... well, I only wish Josh and Morgan and Miles were with us, too, because I'm so glad to be spending it with people I care so much about, and I've really enjoyed it."

"You gonna yap or eat your yams?" Hilda said jokingly. "They're getting cold."

Sabrina waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on. Before I sit down, I just wanna say thanks, and... darn it, I love you guys!"

She earned the group hug, I guess... but I still ended up with somebody's something in my armpit, and I'm not sure I want to know.

_END Chapter Thirteen_


	14. The Best-Laid Plans Of Nice Absinthians...

"So, what now?"

Sabrina shrugged, putting her feet up on the coffee table and staring at the ceiling. "You tell me, Rox. It's the night after Christmas, and all through the house... nothin'."

"Hmm," Roxie mumbled as she paged through the newspaper. "How about we hit up the theater? That new Tom Hanks movie just came out."

"The one where he's trapped on an island with a beach ball for company?" I asked with a sour expression. "Thanks, but no; it's eerily similar to my Senior year."

We'll pause here for a second to satisfy any curiosity you might have about the rest of Christmas Day, but there's not much to tell; we all felt incredibly stuffed, Aunt Hilda made us watch "Ernest Saves Christmas" (her all-time favourite Yule flick) while we digested, and after all the excitement and my lack of sleep the night before, we pretty much passed out the moment our heads touched the pillows.

Of course, that's not to say I was totally comfortable the whole time; once during dinner, both Sabrina and I reached for the butter dish and brushed hands, and I almost lost my cool for a second. Messed up, isn't it? Also, the going-to-bed-together thing felt a lot stranger this time, but I bit the bullet and made with the wax-lip smile. Actually, by then I was even starting to really feel fine - the old "fake it 'til you make it" trick, right? So enough about that crap for now.

Back in the present, Sabrina was flipping through the rest of the day's mail, tossing stuff into general piles on either side of her feet. "Well, there has to be something we can do with ourselves short of buying those big padded sumo-wrestler suits."

"Those sound like fun!" Roxie piped up.

"Ew?" I breathed.

"Don't worry, mi amigas," Sabrina continued, "some exciting development will present itself in due time; we just have to- hmmm."

"Hmm?" we both said, flocking to the couch.

"This flyer got slipped into our mailbox," she continued as she held it up for us to see. "There's gonna be a rave tonight!"

"'A Club Christmas'," I read aloud. "At least they're inventive?"

"Dude, seriously?" Roxie breathed, grabbing it from her. "Wow, this solves all our problems!"

"Except one," Sabrina sighed, slumping down into the couch. "This flyer was obviously meant for Morgan; if any of the rest of us call the number, we might not sound cool enough to get invited."

"That's not necessarily true," Roxie said excitedly. "I mean, you're a total geekwad, but I can pull off cool long enough for a couple phone conversations, right?"

"Maybe, but- hey, wait a minute!" Ooh, that look of indignation was priceless.

"Hate to break it to you," I interrupted with a shrug, "but if neither of you have been to a rave before, there's a pretty low likelihood that you'll get invited to this one."

They both folded their arms. "Who says we've never been to a rave?" Sabrina asked coldly. All I had to do was wait maybe five or ten seconds before she cracked. "Okay, fine, so what? It's not like we've never been to a party before, though."

"But raves are exclusive," I went on, folding my legs under me as I sank into the recliner. "With a party, any idiot can hear the music and just waltz on in, tap the keg. The two main objectives of a rave are to get some use out of your strobe lights and to filter out the undesirable elements of geeks and losers."

"Like us," Roxie muttered.

"What?" Suddenly I found my mouth had a foot in it. "Oh, no, I didn't mean you guys!"

"Yeah you did," Sabrina sighed, tossing the flyer on the floor. "Who am I kidding? I'll never be cool enough for something like that."

"Wait, c'mon, you two!" I picked it up, bracing smile affixed to my lips. "It's not like you're missing anything, anyway, right? These things are usually just a bunch of drugs and sex, and we can get that watching ER."

Roxie's eyes darted up to look at me. "Hold on -  _you've_ been to one?"

I had to snort derisively. "Been to one? Sweetie, my band  _played_ a rave once. Of course, that specific rave was less traditional, what with the lack of techno music, but- hmm, I guess it was more of a vampire thing, actually..."

And then, the sparkle appeared - that gleam of creativity and cunning that showed itself in Sabrina's eyes just before she went off to do something half-cocked. "So you've been to a couple of these by now, huh?"

"Well... yeah, I mean, there's plenty of abandoned warehouses and stuff in the city. The New Yorkians practically invented raves."

"Then you'd probably have enough street cred to get us in, right?"

I hesitated. "What? Well, I don't know, it's-"

"You can't act like you're not hip enough all of a sudden!"

"Okay, first of all, hip people don't actually use the word 'hip', and secondly-"

"Nevermind that," Roxie called over the rest of my sentence. "You could get us in, right? You've got connections!"

"Not down here," I explained patiently. "If it were a rave in like, the Village, we'd be so in, but..."

"Then we're screwed," Sabrina moaned.

But at that moment, the door slammed open and our prayers were answered... in the form of the world's second-most annoying redhead behind Lucille Ball.

"Remind me never to go back there again!" Morgan growled as she dragged her suitcases inside - though "growled" isn't too accurate, considering her voice is unpleasantly squeaky. "My parents are  _sooo_ unfortunate, and Chad found this cat in the village, and... what?"

I guess we were all staring at her like vultures; Sabrina, of course, was the first to recover. "Morgan! Hey, how ya doin'? How was the trip?"

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she dropped her bags and put her hands on her hips. "Okay, fine... what do you want?"

* * *

My retinas threatened to give out from the persistent flash of multi-coloured strobes all around the room. Subwoofers the size of Volkswagens thumped with the sounds of Daft Punk and Depeche Mode remixes. Writhing bodies filled every square inch of the room, leather came in neon colours, plastic cups got thrown at the DJ... it was a killer rave, and at least two hundered other people were there to enjoy it.

"There", as it turned out, was the gym at Westbridge High; since the school was empty for the holidays (save one principal during the daylight hours), it was an optimal spot to host such a soirée... if you wanted to get caught. As soon as we paid the ten-dollar cover and walked in I knew these guys were out of their minds to do this here, and if Roxie and Sabrina weren't so dead set on experiencing it, I would've been more than happy to drag their butts right back out. As it was, I promised myself I'd at least try to listen out for the police - but I wanted to make my opinion known.

"These guys are out of their minds to do this here," I said.

"What?" Sabrina yelled.

"Nevermind!" After dancing in place to the "beats" for a few seconds, I asked loudly, "Are any of you guys as parched as I?"

"Yeah, it is!" Roxie yelled.

Shaking my head, I wound my way through a crowd of glowstickers to see if there were any non-alcoholic refreshments to be had, when I ran into an old friend... or something like one.

"Gordie?"

His fuzzy carrot top turned to see if he had actually heard his name, and when he spotted me he did a double-take. "Libby? Libby Chessler, is that you?"

"In the flesh," I said pleasantly. "Wow, Gordie, how've you been?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Not bad, not bad. How about you, though? I heard you were in some reform school in Bavaria!"

"The reports of my deportation have been highly exaggerated; only went as far as Vermont." I cocked my head to the side and looked him up and down; he was still as geeky and gangly as ever, but he was dressed pretty sharp. "You look well; college must be good to you, huh?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah it is. But what about you? This sure isn't the Libby I remember tormenting me!"

"Huh?" Following his eyes, I saw he was referring to my outfit; fishnets and such. "Oh... well, this  _is_ a rave, right?"

A nervous chuckle. "Yeah, I guess. Say, it was nice running into you again!"

"You too!"

As he moved away from the table I saw a group of kids signaling to him; he waved back and dove headfirst into the crowd.

"Things sure have changed," I muttered as I turned to the rotund guy in a bucket hat behind the table. "Excuse me, but do you have anything with a few less... hops? Liquor's not so much my deal."

"Ahh," he said with knowing grin, tossing me a water bottle. "Gotcha covered, Gina."

"Thanks!"

"Wow, you're an animal," he laughed as I chugged it; unfortunately, I had already downed half the bottle before I realised something.

"Wait a sec... where'd the label go?"

One of his eyebrows receded under the brim of his hat. "Well, Jesus, we had to rip the labels off so we wouldn't mix 'em up with the regular water. Don't you know anything?"

_Shit._

_END Chapter Fourteen_


	15. The Perfreakt Drug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, teh_DRUGZ! M'yes, worrysome happenings are afoot - and it's only going to get worse from here. This is something of a turning point, I'd say. Are we having fun yet?
> 
> By the way, if you're an iTunes user and are bored, you should acquire Paul Oakenfold's take on Max Graham's "Airtight" (from "Another World" disc one); good club music for the rave scene, it's what I used to put myself in the proper mentality. It's also about 11:05 long, so it should last you through all of it, too. :D

_Gina._

God, how could I have been so stupid?! He called me  _Gina._  Being with Adymm as long as I have, I should have picked up on that red flag instantly - he tried to tell me about all that crap, to help me survive the mean club scene of New York. Instead, I was so distracted by all my issues and seeing Gordie again that it flew right past me.

Immediately, I made for the girls' locker room, utilising all the flexibility and maneuvering I retained from my three years of cheerleading. Most people looked at me funny, some laughed... some yelled at me for almost knocking them over. None of them bothered to help me, none of them seemed to realise how bad this was! Finally, I got to the locker room, where I sprinted toward the johns... only to run into Morgan.

"Where's the fire, chief?" she chided.

"No time," I grunted, pelting into a stall. Once in there, I suddenly realised I wasn't going to be very good at this the fist time. How does it work again?

"Hey, are you okay?" I heard her saying behind me.

"Fine, just fine." Hesitantly, I stuck my finger in the back of my throat; it felt awful, and I coughed a little, but nothing came up.

"Whoa, stop, stop, stop!" she yelled, grabbing my shoulders. "Are you on drugs?!"

Relenting, I whirled around and shouted, "I will be if you don't let me heave 'em back up!"

Blinking, she stepped back. "Oh, uh... then, um, go ahead." As I reasserted my stance, she continued, "but you'll want to use two fingers, it works quicker."

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that," I mumbled as I tried her suggestion; I gagged again, and more easily, but that's it.

"Here, drink," she said, handing me a cup of fresh water from the tap. "If you've got more in your stomach, it'll come up easier."

That worked; once I downed the water and tried the two fingers again, out it came. For your sake, I'll refrain from explaining that in too much detail; suffice it to say there was zero fun involved, and the "ew" factor was high. This whole situation is gross enough without being graphic.

"There, there," Morgan cooed as she dabbed at my mouth with a wad of toilet paper. "You're gonna be fine now, right?"

"Yeah..."

She smiled, though she still looked shaken. "By the way, what did you take?"

"GHB," I whispered, coughing into the toilet paper as I tried to rise.

"What?! Christ Almighty, are you insane?!"

"No," I growled half-heartedly. "'Careless' or 'stupid' would apply, though."

"God..." After swallowing uncomfortably, she asked, "Do you know how much?"

"Probably just a few grams... but it's a few more than I wanted, I can tell you that. I swear, I didn't mean to, I- I thought it was just water."

"Man... well, at least you got most of it up and out, so you should be fine."

"Fine?" I grinned as she helped me to my feet. "Yeah, I'm good now. In fact... maybe even great."

"Oh no," she breathed, looking into my eyes; why did she look so funny?

Actually, everything seemed to be entertaining all of the sudden; the bathroom mirrors, the tiles... and everything felt nice. Really nice, like hands moving lightly along my body, caressing me toward the doorway, surrounding me and making sure nothing could go wrong tonight.

"Come along, Morgan; let us... party!"

* * *

Things went hazy after that. For something like an hour, I mingled with total strangers like they were long-lost cousins, tried to take over the DJ booth, and danced with anything that moved - at one point, I may have even hit on Gordie! Some of it I remember myself, but most of what I know comes from eyewitness accounts - AKA, Morgan, who spent the better part of that hour trying to keep me from doing anything I'd regret. Want a "for instance"? Well, for instance, I mooned the entire gymnasium. Yeah, there's one she didn't catch in time; fortunately, only about an eighth of the crowd could see it, but that's some small comfort, let me tell you.

Sabrina and Roxie seemed to notice something was up with me, but I guess they just figured I'd had a couple beers and was living it up since they didn't try to do anything about it. Some friends, huh? Not that I blame them; I mean, I would never have guessed either of them were high, either.

Even so, this was all well and good, or as well and good as tripping on gamma-hydroxybutyrate can be, I guess... until somebody offered me some booze. It seemed to me that it was okay since nothing could conceivably go wrong, so I had a few sips before spitting it out in his face. Then I laughed and pranced away.

Oh, it was a mess. Nobody wanted to have anything to do with me, even with Morgan following in my wake and apologising profusely. Y'know, though, all that I can take with a grain of salt (as long as it's really  _salt)_  as one more life experience I probably had to endure as pennance for my ice queen days of yore... but unpropitiously, the night wore on, and with it I descended further into my own private circle of Hell.

* * *

"Hey, Libby, what's a good word?"

"The word is  _DANCE!"_ I yelled in Sabrina's ear, shaking my groove thang; it looked particularly cool with eight or nine glowsticks hanging from my belt loops. Somewhere along the line, I had misplaced Morgan; she spotted some cute guy and got distracted just long enough to lose track of me.

"Yeah, I guess dancing is important at a party," she laughed.

"Haha, look at me, I'm a firefly! Do I have an interstellar caboose or what?"

She gawked at me hard for a moment as I spun around, trying to watch my own behind as the glowsticks bounced off it. "Oh, of course! Say, Libby, maybe you should hitch your caboose to my engine and I'll pull us on home, okay?"

"Link our cars together, huh?" I winked at her. "Coy, aren't you? You want to pull into my station... or would it be your station? Doesn't matter, I don't have a switch-track."

Suddenly she grabbed my face; despite my protest in the form of " _Ow!"_ , she pried my eyelid open with her thumb. "You're completely wasted, aren't you?"

"Get off!" I yelled, pushing her away and into somebody behind her. When I saw the startled look on her face, I instantly felt horrible. "Oh, Sabrina, I'm sorry, I really am... come over here, I'll make you feel better, okay?"

"Uhh-"

"No, no, it's okay," I breathed, pulling her head onto my chest with one arm and stroking her hair with the other. "That's right... let Libby take care of you. I've got some love for you, you know - do you feel it?"

"Libby, you're squeezing me at the temples!"

"Sorry about that," I sang out, letting her go. "But you're so nice to me. You're a nice freak, you know that? So I don't mind you sleeping with me as long as you use protection; it's all good!"

With that, she stood stock still, gazing slightly off to the left. "Oh... so, you found out about that, huh?"

"Roxie told me," I nodded with a deep sigh. "That's why you looked so, so... ashamed! Yeah, you looked ashamed when you were trying to tell me in the hospital! Oh, what a tangled web we heave... I mean, weave! Heave, that's hilarious, I was just doing that..."

"Libby," she began with some difficulty, "I know you probably can't absorb this right now, but I wanted you to know... I was gonna tell you about that, honest! It's just that- I mean, with you not remembering anything it felt all weird, and then we were planning Christmas dinner, and-"

"And your goose was cooked, huh?" I laughed unnecessarily loud. "You love goose! C'mon, that's a fun word to say -  _goose._  Or geese!"

For a few moments, she stared at me like she didn't know who I was. At the time, I was only mildly concerned, but when I think about that now... it chills me to the bone.

"Aww, don't look so sad," I ranted, reaching over to caress her cheek. "You and I, we're like Ross and Rachel or something - we keep ending up in bed together, right? Okay, maybe more like Penn and Teller, except we both talk and there's-"

"Stop that," she breathed, brushing my hand away.

Not willing to give up so easily, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders; she was trembling. Beams of visual sound bent and radiated around us, and in the eye of the tornado of energy, everything suddenly made perfect sense to me, and I had to share what I'd learned. "I can't help it, Safreakna. You're my number one girlfriend, you know? Sure, we don't get to see each other very often, but I mean, when we do... it's extra-special."

That's when I kissed her.

_END Chapter Fifteen_


	16. ...And Then Libby Turned Herself Inside-Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "GOOD GOD!" I'm sure that was a common reaction. Or else, "FINALLY!" Probably got that one a lot, as well.

Realistically, it only lasted maybe three or four seconds; to me, to us, it must have taken centuries. Accuraccy might be at a minimum for that night - it's possible some of the preceding dialogue might even have happened a tad differently than I wrote here, since I was in an altered state - but you'd better believe that disturbing, otherwordly moment was etched into my memory permanently. Every techno beat, the colours and patterns of the lights... the sensation of my lips grinding into hers, acting on blind, chemically-induced instincts. Her heart raced against mine, her breath was hot on my cheek - her nails dug desperately into my back, trying to get me to stop.

When my eyes finally opened and looked into hers, I saw two saucers of anguish, seasoned with confusion, outrage... and maybe even a hint of fear. It wasn't until our lips parted and I heard her ragged breath, saw the way the corners of her mouth turned down, that I realised what I'd done - and I assure you, I came crashing down to sobriety with the force of a freight train.

There were no words. For a few seconds, we regarded each other, not sure what to do - or if we could do anything but stare. Then, in a fit of one emotion or another, she shoved me into the throng and ran, her hand covering her mouth.

"Sabrina, wait," I whispered pointlessly. "I... I'm sorry."

* * *

From that moment on, nothing felt real. Oakenfold played on, people laughed and shouted, feet moved around mine... and mine moved, pulled me through the crowd, drifting. My mind worked with the GHB as it redoubled its efforts to cut me off from external stimuli, and I stumbled between bodies, not caring that people tried to talk to me, not feeling my feet being stepped on or elbows bumping into my arms and back. The air held me aloft, the floor rose to meet my footsteps, making it easier to walk. None of it mattered, though, because... because I couldn't remember why.

"Libby, there you are!" Morgan shouted as she clawed her way past a few more ravers. "You didn't puke on anybody or anything, did you?"

"Mm."

"So, GHB, huh?" Roxie said - I hadn't even noticed her there. "Could be worse, I guess - that is, it's not X or anything. How much did she take?"

"Mm."

"Half a water bottle," Morgan told her. "I asked the guy manning the so-called bar, and he guesstimated she probably got five or six grams in her."

"Jesus! Is she gonna be okay - should we call an ambulance?!"

"Well, like I told you she hacked most of it up, so I think..."

At that point, my mind even shut out their voices. It was more like I felt them; sound swirled around me like a blanket, or a gentle breeze. I could sense its concern, like a quaivering note at the end of a refrain, and then arms were pulling at me, coaxing me to walk on; I obeyed. Bodies flexed and pulsated, eyes followed me, portals opened, lights flashed on, and there was a seat and I was in it, and more lights sped past, and suddenly the college house showed up in front of me. Delighted at a familiar sight, I dashed forward - straight into the door.

_"OWTCH!"_

The pain coursing through my face and chest - and especially my hip, where the doorknob had grazed it - was enough to make the high release my brain completely. Blinking, I stumbled backward and almost lost my balance, but thin, strong arms caught me.

"Upsie-daisy!" Roxie grunted, struggling to right me again. "A concussion is the last thing you need right now."

"God..." My head was still swimming, and everything felt a little weird, but I was beginning to think straight again. "Wh... what happened, how'd we get home?"

"A car," Morgan whispered. "One of those modern conveniences."

"Yeah..." I coughed as they dragged me through the door and sat me on the couch. "Oh man, I can't believe this happened. It- it's not my fault, right? I mean, obviously most people see a water bottle and just assume it's a bottle of water, right?"

"Of course, sweetie," Roxie cooed.

"Dammit! This was supposed to be an exciting end to a great holiday, and... and I ruined it. I ruined everybody's Christmas."

"Don't say that," Roxie replied. "Even with you flying around the scoreboard, this was still my best Christmas yet, and I mean that."

"And I certainly enjoyed this more than dealing with my family at the chalet," Morgan mumbled.

"But... but I got stoned, and-"

"Nobody blames you," Roxie said as the front door opened again. The three of us looked up, and there she was.

The mascara streaks running down her face were the first and most obvious change in her appearance since I last saw her. Other than that, there was her rumpled shirt, the disheveled hair... and, as at least I could tell, all her lipstick had been violently wiped away. She didn't look angry, and she didn't really look sad, either... more like drained.

"Sabrina!" Morgan piped up. "Where'd you disappear to? We could've used your help."

"Libby got dosed on accident," Roxie continued as Sabrina paced forward. "The date-rape drug. Did you see some of the bizarre stuff she was..."

She trailed off as she realised Sabrina was walking right by us and straight into her room without so much as looking at us twice. We all jumped when the door slammed.

"What the hell's her damage?" Morgan spat.

"Me."

They both looked at me. "What do you mean?" Roxie asked. "Did you two get into it or something?"

My eyes flitted between them, not knowing what to do here. If I spilled the beans before I was ready to deal with said beans, it might make everything ten times worse, and I know I'd at least turn into a quivering mound of sobs... but I couldn't lie to them, either.

"Don't wanna talk about it."

* * *

To shorten this part of the story, we'll sum up the rest of the night quickly; they kept trying to cheer me up (and failed), Sabrina stayed holed up in her room, and eventually we all went to bed; I slept on the couch in my clothes, though Morgan was nice enough to throw a blanket over me. The lingering drugs made it easy for me to drift off, even though my swirling sea of emotions longed to keep me from ever sleeping again.

My dreams were all about Sabrina - every single one. None of them are pleasant to think about, but not all of them involved her never speaking to me again - or killing me. No, I'd say the others were much worse.

When the sun came up in the morning, I was the first to greet it; everyone else slept in, probably exhausted from the previous night's craptastic events. Meanwhile, I was wide awake and refreshed - other than the nightmares, it was the best night's sleep I've ever had. There was a big drawback, though: my mind couldn't hide behind a curtain of grogginess, so as soon as I got up and moving I had to face the reality of what happened in the gym.

I kissed a girl. And not in that "social kiss" way, but in a "let's make babies" way! To add insult to injury, it wasn't any old girl - I made out with Sabrina Spellman, the girl whom I had thought of as the lowest totem on the pole less than two years ago. Why? The drugs? No, convenient though it might be, and as big a contributing factor as it most assuredly was, the GHB wasn't working alone. I'd been thinking all those weird thoughts about her since Christmas Eve - that gave my mind two full days to build up the "naked together" thing into more than it was. She was trying to save my life, dammit! Why did part of my brain want to pick the whole situation apart?

Now, since all this went down, I've had the chance to get some 4-1-1 on GHB, and one of the possible effects of the drug is heightened, uh... sensuality. What I mean is, it boosts the ol' libido though the stratosphere. See, I figure that, plus the dropping of inhibitions, was probably why I suddenly latched onto her face for no other forseeable reason. I told you it was a convenient excuse, and my science is sound, trust me. But that's just a bunch of lab talk.

The real issue in the front of my mind was... what do I do now? Do I go apologise to Sabrina? It seems like something that goes beyond being sorry. Should I give her space? There wasn't time - I had to leave soon, and then she'd have all the space in the world. All the what-ifs floating through my mind only seemed to make me question my identity and whether or not anything in my freaky life made any sense... but there were a few things that did, and I had to act on them.

Without thinking too hard about it, I ran over to Sabrina's door and knocked on it sharply. "Sabrina! Sabrina, are you up?" No answer. "Listen, Sabrina, about last night... I don't know what-"

"Go away."

"Sabrina? Please, don't do this to me again, I have to talk to-"

The door suddenly opened slightly, and I could see one of her blue eyes through the slit, all bloodshot and puffy... and it wasn't even looking at me. "Libby, you have to go. I'm sorry, but that's all there is to it."

"But this is-"

"Don't. Just... just don't, please. Goodbye."

Then the door slammed shut, leaving me standing in the living room and wondering where I went wrong... and how I could claw my way back from this.

_END Chapter Sixteen_


	17. Westbridge Over Troubled Waters

"Hey, Libby... how are you this morning?"

A nod was all the response I could muster. I'm sure Morgan was wondering why I was sitting on the kitchen counter, knees drawn up under my chin and staring out the window, but I didn't really have an answer.

"Okie-dokie," she said slowly, eyes squinting at me. After a few moments of lingering for some other sign of life, she sighed and opened the refrigerator, pouring herself a glass of chilled green tea. "Did you sleep okay?"

"No."

She joined me by the counter. "Really? Oh, I'm sorry..."

"Mm."

She laid a hand on my ankle; it felt warm compared to my freezing feet. "You... wanna talk about it now, maybe?"

"Not really."

"Well, okay," she muttered, biting her lip as she tried to read me again. I concentrated on making my face look as blank as possible; nobody could know the kind of mental, moral and philosophical questions firing through my synapses. Hell, I didn't even want to think about them.

"I'm leaving," I whispered simply.

"What?"

"In a few hours. Back to New York."

"Oh." Though it was only a small, insignificant speck of comfort in this shitstorm of yuckyness, the fact that she genuinely looked disappointed that I was leaving did make me feel better. "That's too bad, but I guess you have to."

"Yeah... Adymm misses me."

"He does?"

"Yeah. I talked to him last night, before we left for the club... there was some lingering weirdness, but we're bridging the gap or whatever."

"Aww, how sweet."

I fiddled with the hem of my blouse. "I guess." Several seconds passed before Morgan spoke again, and boy did she.

" _GOD_ , I can't stand it! This whole silent treatment thing is so  _ridiculous,_  and it's seriously putting a damper on my mood! Nobody was murdered, no broken bones, so what's your friggin' problem? I mean it, I seriously want to know - what the hell went down last night?!"

Before I could even try to field that one, I broke down crying. For a few minutes, there were no new developments to speak of; then Morgan's arm was around my back, the other hand stroking my hair as she shushed me. The last thing I wanted to do was show any shred of emotion, and here I was pouring it out by the bucketful. Some willpower I have!

* * *

Logan Airport was pretty crowded, as I expected; holiday flights are the worst. Since everybody else was either busy or not talking to me, Roxie volunteered to see me off; after getting there at least an hour early for my flight and checking my bags (or bag, I guess), we got some Starbucks and sat around for a few minutes.

"So you're really leaving things like this?" Roxie was asking. "I feel so helpless..."

"What choice do I have? I tried talking to her this morning, but she... she wouldn't even look at me to tell me goodbye."

"Sorry. I tried talking to her about this last night, and this morning again, but-"

"Nothing." I laughed harshly. "Like Junior Prom: The Sequel - y'know, longer and with a bigger budget, but even worse than its predecessor."

She nodded, swishing the contents of her cup idly. "Can't say I blame her... or you. Really, I can't say anything at all about any of this, since I'm less informed than Gomer Pyle."

"I know, and I wish I could fill you in..." For the first time, I really strained with it; I wanted to let it out, to spill my guts and hope it relieved some pressure. "But I can't. Even if I had no problem personally, she'd kill me if I dragged you into it without talking to her about it first."

"But that's stupid - she's not speaking to you! How are you going to-"

"I know, I know," I reiterated. Wanting to say something with tied hands, I did what I could. "But... if Sabrina ever says or acts like she wants to talk, you can tell her I said it's okay. Okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah, that's big, steaming  _piles_ of 'help'."

"Isn't it, though?"

We both sighed. Then, the loudspeaker announced that the plane was beginning to board.

"Guess this is it," Roxie said, setting her paper cup down and standing with me.

"Yeah."

After a few seconds of hesitation, she squeezed me hard. "It was great meeting you, Libby - hopefully your next visit goes less disasterly."

"Thanks," I said with no small amount of earnestness as we released and I re-shouldered my purse. "And the pleasure was totally mine, Rox."

"Have a good flight!" she called after me as I walked off toward security. "Dress warmly!"

* * *

Maybe half an hour passed between then and the final boarding call. For some reason, I didn't get on the plane immediately; like an idiot, I waited around for something to happen, something that would fix everything or make me feel better - or at least something that would make me feel less like dying. It never came.

When I saw an employee walk over to the gate door, I ran up to the desk and showed them my ticket, and they let me squeeze in. Just as the door began swinging to, I took one last look back through it...

And there she was. There were dozens of people and rows of empty chairs between us, and I only had about five seconds to do a double take, but there was no mistaking her; Sabrina had bought a ticket and gone through security just to see me off, I could see it in her hand. My arm tensed, my mouth twitched, but there was no use; once they shut that door there's no getting them to open it, and I didn't even have long enough to squeak out a "Wait!" Before the door closed completely, I had enough time to register two other things: that her cheeks were glistening with what could only be tears, and that her other hand, the ticket-free one, was waving.

Just enough time for that before I was headed back to New York... and Sabrina was gone.

_The End Of The Innocence_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus endeth yet another installment of Libby Chessler: An Unauthorized Autobiographical Representation Of The Bizarre And Uncomfortable. In case you were wondering, there will be more! Why? Because I am Jessica X, and it's what I do! Anywhich, reviews are welcome and necessary, and I'll put my nose to the grindstone again quite soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Libby, Sabrina, et al. are © Archie Comics / Hartbreak / Paramount / Whatever. Adymm, the members of In Absinthia, and this work of fiction are ©2008 myself.
> 
> Well, here we are with yet another verse to this song: Cheerless Part III. LOOOONG though it's getting already, there's yet more of this story inside of me just waiting to be told, and I'm going to tell it to the best of my ability. I'm sure you'll be thanking me for this profusely, and I'm sure you had already figured it out (being the bright young things you are), but yes, Libby's going back to Westbridge, and yes, more hilarity and awkwardness will intermingle in the coming chapters. Fasten your safety harnesses, because you're in for a bumpy ride!


End file.
